Now Playing, Up and Up, by Relient K

It was supposed to be simple; meet a Legendary Pokémon or two, head off to the Pokémon League, and maybe stop Team Plasma from taking over the region and/or world.

And he had managed that! He had managed it very well, in fact, which made his situation all the more frustrating. He had not caught Zekrom as much as he had entered into the Legendary Pokémon's service. When the region and/or world was at stake, that was such a minor distinction he had all but ignored it. The deal seemed proportional to the situation.

At the time, that is. Not long afterwards, just before he could actually challenge the Elite Four, become Champion, and prove to Hilda that no, he was not just her big dumb childhood friend once and for all, he woke up somewhere else.

That somewhere else was not a Pokémon Center. It was not in Unova at all, but rather, a few regions to the south.

His first thought had been, "Katapa? Isn't that a kind of turtle?"

Asking if the region had been named after a reptilian Pokémon did not do him any favors.

After doing his cursory research in the nearest Pokémon Center, he got around to trying to contact his Mom, Cheren, Bianca, or (as a last resort due to the endless teasing that would follow) Hilda.

His cross-transceiver registered the number. He read it clearly on the screen. He pressed the call button.

Lightning had lanced out of both of his arms, flowed into the device, and promptly made it explode.

He stared at his unharmed wrist and hemmed and hawed for a few minutes.

Clearly, it was a minor technical glitch. A rather unfortunate one, but his cross-transceiver had been through every climate there was in Unova and he had never invested in a heavy duty case. He should have expected that.

He went to one of the Pokémon Center's call machines and typed in a different number, but still one that led to a friend in Unova.

The monitor flickered as he typed. Electricity sparked over his fingers but did not strike at the machine directly.

Intelligence was not his strong suit. Actually, that would be common sense. His intelligence was just above average enough to make him overthink everything, but not enough so that he would realize that was a strength to direct rather than a nuisance to ignore. If thinking only led him the wrong way, then why think at all?

It was fitting that Zekrom, who followed (and was possibly created by) ideals, would pick a willingly impulsive champion.

Where were we? Ah, yes.

The call machine's monitor exploded in his face, showering him with bits of broken plastic and coppery components.

Nurse Joy leaned over the counter and gave him a look.

"...Sorry?" he said, wincing.

Smoke continued pouring out of the computer, which probably wasn't physically possible but maybe that should have been taken as a warning.

So, after cleaning up, frantically apologizing, and leaving the Pokémon Center, he began thinking of other ways to contact the people back home.

He could find someone willing to fly him, couldn't he?

Finding a public telephone, surprisingly, was as difficult as it would have been in Unova. He had figured that the southern regions would never have moved past the ancient times of rotary telephones and only seventeen Pokémon types, but they had. Indeed, they had, but that didn't stop the region from being incredibly anachronistic.

The capital city of Katapa hadn't been hard to find. He simply got up from where he had found himself in the muddy badlands, saw the distant skyline, and started walking. That was before his escapades into cyberterrorism.

He found a café that seemed to be straight out of the fifties, with red faux-leather seating, neon lights, and waitresses and Tyrogue on roller skates.

That was probably just the store's gimmick, something told him in the back of his mind, but he was used to shutting out logic by then.

He had found a wall-mounted telephone that was allegedly still in working order and started fiddling with it.

A few hours later, his arms thoroughly pruned by dishwashing liquid to work off the cost of the phone, he walked out into the cool night air and realized that he really had no clue what he was doing.

As usual.

Rather than panicking and trying to find a solution, as Hilda was bound to do when her plans and schemes failed her, he decided to go with the flow and go where his ideals usually took him.

He could just start walking and-

Suddenly, his body began convulsing as if one of Galvantula's lower level attacks had hit him. The concrete was not a great place to do that, but the sensation of scraping his skin off was somehow dulled.

Was he having a seizure?

After he stopped thinking about leaving the region, he felt around his body and couldn't find any wounds.

Noticing the passerby giving him odd looks, he hopped up and continued walking as if nothing had happened.

It was strange, he thought, that even with such a large city, there was basically nothing to do. Everything was so spread out that it took him fifteen minutes to get from one strip mall to another. There wasn't even a specialist Pokéball shop, just a bunch of storefronts selling X-items with slightly different coats of paint.

He kept on walking.

"Go."

I am, he thought to himself, quickening his pace. Really, he wasn't going anywhere, so why overthink it?

"Go."

I need to get rid of that voice in the back of my head. He's really subverting me and cramping my style.

"Go."

Hilbert suddenly realized that the voice in the back of his head was, in fact, coming from behind and beneath his head, and turned around.

There was a tiny Golett, barely three feet tall, just behind him. Despite being made entirely of stone, their movement had been almost entirely silent.

Hilbert crouched down and poked them in the face. Lightning crackled along his finger but seemed to do nothing at all to the stone Pokémon. "Huh. How long have you been following me?"

"Go," they said, pointing backwards.

"Since the desert?" he guessed.

"Go."

"Huh," Hilbert said.

Golett stood up tall and poked Hilbert in the face.

Hilbert went flying back, but rolled to his feet without missing a beat.

"You remind me of someone I know," he said, leaving a good amount of distance between them. "She's always talking about an eye for an eye. Well, she did. Truth of it was that everyone ends up blind. But, eh, what can you do?"

Golett, despite not having eyelids, seemed to blink at him.

"Okay, so, I'm lost as hell," Hilbert said, trying not to ramble. "Are you from around here?"

"Go," Golett said, shaking their head.

"Where are you from?" he asked.

Golett pointed at the ground.

"What?"

They pointed further, and as if it would help, stomped their foot.

"The… ground?" Hilbert offered.

Golett nodded.

"Like, in a metaphorical way or are you literally…"

Golett shook their head and then nodded.

"Huh. Great." Hilbert blinked. "You're lost too?"

Golett shrugged.

"Huh."

Hilbert thought for a moment.

Then a little longer.

And then, for good measure, thought for another minute.

"We should team up and figure out what's going on. I think Zekrom's doing something weird to keep me in this region, I don't have any of my Pokémon, and it's dangerous to go alone, so I should take you with me," Hilbert finally said.

Golett stared at him for a moment before walking past him. "Go."

"Alright then," Hilbert said, unsure, before going with the flow as always and following.

The Pokémarts in Katapa were actually separate from Pokémon Centers, which surprised him. He thought the center he visited earlier looked strange, but he hadn't thought of it at first.

There was a lot more camping gear on display than he had ever seen in Unova. There were rare nights when he had to pitch a tent on a roadside, but even Accumula Town was more industrialized than the city he had found himself in.

"Excuse me," he said to a casually dressed clerk, "I need to buy a Pokéball for my…"

Golett could be considered his partner for the moment, couldn't they?

"...my partner, please."

"A'right," they said, still leaning on the counter. "Will that be with the Sync Pairing add-on or not?"

Hilbert blinked. "What's that?"

The clerk continued on, though they didn't seem to be focusing too much on him. "Oh, I know it's one of those "newfangled gadgets," sir, but all they do is make the Pokémon chosen for battle more clear and provide more information to-" the glaze disappeared from their eyes. "Oh, sorry. We get a lot of old people around here…" they waved their hand to dismiss the thought, "I have to explain that a lot."

"No, go on, I've never heard of that before," Hilbert said. He honestly hadn't. Was it a new kind of luxury Pokéball? He had been too busy with the Unova League and Team Plasma to keep an eye on trends.

"You a tourist?" they asked.

"Something like that."

"Ah. Well, in Katapa we have this thing where you can only battle with one Pokémon in formal matches." Catching Hilbert's shock, they added, "Bond Phenomenon is a pretty big thing around here. You ever hear of that?"

"Well, people obviously have bonds with their Pokémon," he said. "Nothing like that though."

The clerk ah'ed in thought before clicking their tongue. "Sometimes a Pokémon will start looking like its trainer. It'll get stronger too, so it's really handy for battles. You have to be really close with your Pokémon, and it's most common during battle, so," the clerk shrugged, "Y'know."

Hilbert's eyebrows were halfway to his hairline. He asked, "Does the Bond Phenomenon only happen with the add-on?"

"Nah, that's just a thing that you can use to get better data on your Pokémon. How ready they are for battle, what happens to their strength when they transform, that kinda stuff. The Aether Foundation started giving them out a while back. Only an extra fifty on a normal Pokéball."

"I'll take one of those and ten normal ones," Hilbert said.

"2250. And you get a complimentary Premier Ball with your purchase, of course."

A minute or so later, the clerk waved him off as he exited.

Golett had waited on the sidewalk, standing guard beneath a street lamp.

"Hey," Hilbert greeted, holding out the Pokéball marked with a T and three spoke-like diamonds in gold. "I'll catch you now. So you don't get caught," he added. He didn't feel like they had much trust between them other than a vague goal.

"Go."

It was nice to see something familiar, he thought, as Golett melted into light and swirled into the Pokéball. Not a second later, the ball clicked.

Picking up the Pokéball, he heard someone shout, "Hey, that was my catch!"

A youngster ran up to him, wearing a blue cap, a tan button-up with some strange sort of patching on the breasts and shoulder, and green shorts.

"I was going to catch that Pokémon," he declared. "If you haven't keyed it yet, you should give it to me. It hardly put up a fight, so I could have caught it if you hadn't gotten in the way."

Hilbert blinked. He hadn't had to deal with people like that since, what… beating Elesa? People who would run up when you succeeded and tried to claim your credit.

He tapped Golett's ball to his Trainer ID, registering them as owned, without even thinking about it.

"Hey!" the youngster complained.

"Huh?" Hilbert looked down. "Oh. Yeah. Sorry. Golett's my partner right now. I sort of need him."

"That's a rare Pokémon," the youngster said, "I didn't even know its name! That's how rare it is! Please give it to me, I need a strong Pokémon!"

"All Pokémon are strong," Hilbert recited, trying to remember what Alder had told him when they crossed paths. "It's up to you to-"

"Please!" The youngster's tone took on a more desperate tone. "Rare Pokémon are really strong, and I need to catch one to get my Rattata back."

"Why's that?"
"It's… It's none of your business, just please let me-"

A thought occurred to Hilbert. "Did they get stolen?" He was hoping that Katapa didn't have any huge problems like Unova. If they did, considering Zekrom had sent him there…

The thought went out of his mind as the youngster clenched his fist. "The older boys from my trainer school took it and said that if I give them a stronger Pokémon, they'll give Rattata back."

There was a spark somewhere in the back of Hilbert's mind. A strike of lightning that shot into the back of his eyes.

He remembered making a promise to follow his ideals, always and forever.

His hand shot to cover his eyes. He could see the lines in his palms even when they were shielded from the streetlights.

Lightning danced against his skin.

"Well, why didn't you just say that?" Hilbert said, removing his hands and pulling his hat down low. His shoulders raised themselves and his stance became more firm. "Why don't I go along with you to trade Golett myself."

"Will you give me Rattata after?" the youngster asked hopefully.

"Of course," Hilbert said. "By the way, I'm from Unova. What's a Rattata?"

The youngster's name was Jack, as Hilbert learned on his way to the club his schoolmates hung around in.

"They usually hang out here," Jack said as they stood outside the neon signs and dirty windows. "One of their brothers usually works behind the counter and gets them… drinks. They make me come here sometimes. They have pictures from when they made me drink and if I tell a teacher, they'll send them out…"

"What are their names?" Hilbert asked.

Jack rattled them off quickly.

"Stay out here," he said.

The inside of the bar was sanitary, only in that it would pass a general inspection, not that it was well kept. Not a single table was in line, all of the seats were torn, and the place faintly smelled like Floccesy Ranch.

It seemed homely enough, but the rowdy teenager pounding on the table and shouting at the game of Goal Roll on the television disturbed that lived-in atmosphere.

Going with the flow as always, his thoughts streamlined into a process of events that would lead to an ideal situation.

"I'm looking for a guy named Andrew. Where is he?" Hilbert called.

One of the boys rose, tall and muscled with pale brown liquids staining his tank top. "That's me. Whatchu want?"

"I hear you're a good battler."

"Yeah? What about it?"

Hilbert pointed at him and attempted a cocky smirk. "I hear you're not all you're cracked up to be."

"Which retard told you that?" Andrew said, climbing over the booth and swaggering towards him.

"A little birdie," Hilbert said, looking up at the glaring boy.. "Are we going to battle or what? It might be too easy though."

"Wanna bet?" he growled.

"Sure," Hilbert said smoothly. "That's a great idea. I'm thinking a wager of one Pokémon will be fair. Maybe one that's common," he shrugged, "Like a Pidove or a Rattata."

"The fuck's a Pidove? Whatever. Sure, I've got a spare Rattata. What's your wager?"

"I'll trade my partner," Hilbert said, raising Golett's Pokéball. "They're pretty rare, so I hear."

The ball shook, showcasing Golett's protests, but his opponent was too focused on glaring.

"Psh. I'll take it." Andrew slipped a Pokéball out of his pocket and expanded it. "Get ready."

Two Pokémon appeared on the painted concrete between them after they put some distance between them.

A bipedal Pokémon stood across from Golett, a puff of white fur with a pink round nose. Shackles hang loosely from its cable-like arms.

"Primeape, tackle that bitch!"

The Fighting-type stumbled over a table leg, but kept charging towards Golett with arms outstretched.

Hilbert had once thought that all Ghost-types were immune to Normal and Fighting-type attacks, but he quickly learned that if a Pokémon had a physical presence, it could still be affected. As such, unless Golett could change their tangibility on the spot, they would still be hit.

He took in the environment and saw a pitcher on an unattended table.
"Golett, throw that water," Hilbert called.

Golett managed to reach the glass pitcher and threw it at Primeape's face. Still charging, it contacted one of the shackles and shattered over its face.

"What the hell?" Andrew shouted. "That's not a-"

Primeape stumbled and fell over its feet, thudding onto the floor. Hilbert saw it trying to stand up.

"Golett, Shadow Punch!"

Golett swung as Primeape's face rose, sending it off its feet and back towards its trainer.

"Dirty fighting bastard," Andrew said through clenched teeth. "That's got to be against the rules."

Hilbert blinked. "I'll pay for the pitcher. Duh."

As Primeape struggled to stand, Andrew looked around and called, "What are you guys doing? Get your Pokémon on this asshole!"

Various Pokémon appeared over the floor and nearby tables.

Hilbert rubbed the back of his neck and slumped. "I'm not covering the rest of this, though. This isn't the first time I've been in this situation. How about you, Golett?"

Golett didn't answer.

A spark lit up in Hilbert's vision, disappearing as quickly as it came.

He began seeing double. It seemed as if he had halved in height, looking around at Pokémon standing around him.

A light began gathering around Golett, and at the same time, he felt stone begin to creep up his neck.

"This guy has Bond Phenomenon? Shit," Andrew spat, "Get him before he can adapt!"

He felt something blank flood into his mind. Was it Golett's own?

Zekrom's head appeared in his mind,

A Tyrogue punched Golett in the face. Though the Ghost-type barely stumbled, Hilbert felt like his nose was caved in.

Feeling it for blood, it was entirely fine. Stone melted over his cheeks, cracks forming in the coating in the shape of a spiral.

Golett's arm mirrored the movement of his own, actually blocking the Tyrogue's strike inadvertently.

Lightning sparked up from Golett's body, shocking the Fighting-type.

Hilbert's gaze sharpened.

A Raticate skittered forward, its fang glowing and readying to strike.

Hilbert saw the tail flickering in the air behind it.

Golett sidestepped Raticate's charge and grabbed the tail, making the Raticate screech before Golett threw it back into a Makuhita.

The Makuhita hardly noticed, letting the Normal-type roll over it and crash into a booth. It tapped its glove-like hands together and reared back with its fist.

Hilbert saw the chair before Golett passed it entirely.

Golett snagged the chair leg and swung it around, holding the prongs towards Makuhita.

It slammed into the seat, but it quickly punched through with a fist.

Golett picked up the broken back and cracked it across Makuhita's face.

A Hawlucha swooped down from above, snatching a broken shard from the air and charging Golett.

Golett put their weight on the edge of a table, tipping it over so fast that it threw the abandoned drinks and food into the air just in time to crash into the Hawlucha.

As they walked further forward, Golett's left arm stalled.

Hilbert's vision blurred and saw him looking up at the other trainer once again, who had his wrist in a pincer grip.

Andrew snarled in his face. "I think we need to solve this mano y mano. Hiding behind Pokémon like you is lame."

Hilbert punched him square in the jaw. Blue stone shattered and dissolved off of his knuckles.

Andrew crashed through the table, knocking two over with his broad shoulders and slamming into the concrete floor.

He had to fight Team Plasma a little more personally than he expected back in the day. It gave him some experience.

Golett held out its arm towards the group of boys, gesturing towards the Pokéball in his pocket.

Hilbert mimicked the motion across the destroyed corridor, eyes sparking with blue electricity. "I'll be taking that Rattata."

Youngster Jack cradled the Pokéball when Hilbert tossed it back to him. He continued walking without a thought before Jack moved to catch up.

"Wow! I knew the Bond Phenomenon could do some cool things, but I've never seen anything like that before."

"Hm," Hilbert said, rubbing his thumb over Golett's Pokéball.

"Who are you?"

"Black," Hilbert answered before flinching.

Hilbert was such a lame name that he'd tried to make up a nickname to replace it when he was younger. He had grown accustomed to answering by it, and further to being dope slapped when he did.

The slap never came, and Jack's eyes widened.

"That's a cool name. Are you a Pokémon Scout like me? No, you're way stronger than that. You have to be a Gym Challenger."

"Something like that," Hilbert said, still mentally distant. "More like I'm looking for something."

"Like a wayfarer?" Jack asked. "Or an orienteer?"

"More of the former. I don't use compasses that often." Cross-transceivers were good about staying in service even in the highest mountains and deepest castles.

"Whoa… Wayfarer Black…" Jack whispered.

"Eh?" Hilbert said.

"Nothing, nothing… I won't forget this, seriously!" Jack said.

"Mhm."

"I'll be stronger so I don't need help anymore! You've inspired me."

Golett shook in their Pokéball. Hilbert stared at the ball with a distant gaze.

"Yep," Hilbert said.

"I'll be the very best, just like you!" Jack declared, stopping to point into the starry sky with greater stars in his eyes. "My Rattata will become the top-percentage Rattata that pierces the Heavens!"

Hilbert mumbled a reply and left the Scout behind, off to find a place to rest and down some advil.

"I've gotta tell someone about this!" Youngster Jack said, before scurrying off home to hop on his PC.

Omake:

Various Pokémon appeared over the floor and nearby tables.

Before Hilbert could even speak, the door crashed open.

"Oh, shit, it's Thad!" one of the boys cried.

"PROTEIN!" Thad shouted. "SQUATS! PUSH-UPS! CARDIOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

"C'mon, man, we gotta get out of here!"

"I told you guys not to do this stuff anymore!" Thad yelled after them as they stumble-ran.

Hilbert blinked.

Thad turned to him and flashed a thumbs-up. "Hey, bro, wassup? You're strong for a scrawny guy. You and that little guy ever thought about running cross country?"

*Bro, Do You Even Lift? reference

I hope everyone likes this first chapter. I thought I would try my hand at another Aura-MC journey fic, just with a twist. There will be only one character in this story with Lucario-esque powers, and it's not Hilbert. It's not making the protagonist overpowered if you make everyone overpowered, is it? No, he's got his own sort of aura power, which I will be getting into later.

Most people have Bond Phenomenon there due to ambient energy from [REDACTED], very few people have aura powers, but Legendary interference is going to be a major factor in the story.

The Katapa region is based on my little slice of the deep south, and I hope that you can accept me taking a while to properly worldbuild.

That being said, I apologize for the use of pejoratives in dialogue. They're not uncommon down here, but I understand that people will dislike their use. I feel like to establish a realistic world, you have to establish dull cruelties in life rather than use huge tragedies that seem cartoonishly terrible.

Alternate titles include Southern Air, Up and Up, and, in reference to the obvious, They Mostly Live in the Carolinas.

Anyway, read, review, flame, do whatever, I'm fine with it, but let me know what you think, please.