A/N: Welcome to the first instalment of my fanfic. Yes, this worldbuilding sorta anthology is out before the actual thing. I'm more accustomed to the style of one-shots, and I really wanted to actually start the story instead of procrastinating for another month. Good news, though; the main fic's started!

Also, this particular story just barged into my brain uninvited yesterday and refused to leave, so here it is. Fair warning, this one's sad. The next ones probably won't be.

Comments and criticism very welcome. Hope you enjoy.


Humans. Mysterious, powerful beings who once lived across the world. Blessed with the inclination to create, to explore, to break boundaries that nobody else knew existed.

Their legacy is apparent anywhere you look. Ancient ruins, shadows of once-great cities. Strange structures in Mystery Dungeons, forever preserved in the space-warping maze of hallways. Legends and stories, passed down through generations through word of mouth, or in chance encounters with the Legendaries.

Though the stories are different, twisted by centuries of time, they all agree on one thing. That one day, the Humans vanished, and none ever came back.

Some bemoan the loss of the incredible knowledge that the Humans must have had, never to be found again. Some cheer the disappearance of Humanity's stifling presence from the world. Yet others sit looking to the stars, wondering what could have been. Yearning for a present that never existed, where Humans roamed the world, friends to all Pokemon.

The rare few who actually remember what happened?

They grow fewer and fewer with each passing decade. But still, they persist. Still, they survive. Deep beneath the earth, or on islands wracked by the stormy seas, they preserve the knowledge of the past, in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, the world would need it again someday.

...


In a cave beneath a mountain, a tiny, shivering Cyndaquil coughed out a lone ember.

"Momma?"

The baby Cyndaquil's cry echoed through the cave once, then twice. There was no one there to hear.

Still, the Cyndaquil waited for a second. Hopefully. Futilely.

Then, he drooped. He shakily trudged on.

Twelve hours ago, he would have cried. But he had quickly learned not to after an irritated Zubat dived down into him, screeching until he fled.

He had no more tears, anyways. It had been hours since the Cyndaquil last saw any water to drink.

Suddenly, for the second time in his short life, the Cyndaquil's front paws landed on thin air. Once again, he fell down, down, and down, into the endless maw of the cave.

A small whump and a painful crack echoed through the darkness. Then, a string of choked sobs.

Eighteen hours is a short time to live. But for the Cyndaquil, it was all he knew. Slowly, the Cyndaquil curled up. He was weary. His emotions were spent. Now, he only felt the lull of sleep.

His consciousness began sinking, ever so slowly.

"...truder alert. Intru-"

Through his mental haze, the Cyndaquil saw a stragely... rectangular indent not too far away slide open. Bright light shone through, and a small, floating Pokemon cautiously appeared from within.

It was beautiful. Like a ray of sunshine dancing through the forest leaves.

"Mo...mma...?"

The last thing the little Cyndaquil saw was the strange Pokemon sparking in alarm and rushing closer. Then, darkness.


The Cyndaquil ran through the caves. The rocky earth bit into his paws, and the stale air stung at his wounds. Yet he could not stop. He needed to keep running.

If he ran fast enough, perhaps he could outrun the darkness. Outrun the hunger, and the thirst, and the suffocating silence. But alas, the Cyndaquil was too small. Too weak. No matter how hard he ran, the shadows crept in.

Dark, darker, yet darker. The light of the sun withdrew from the cave, leaving only the Cyndaquil's own fire to light the way. With time, that too flickered, then sputtered out.

The darkness was all around the Cyndaquil now. Cold claws grasped at his hind legs, and a monster in the dark behind him let out a silent screech. The Cyndaquil ran blindly, recklessly, putting one paw in front of another as if Death itself was on his tail.

Then, the ground ended. The Cyndaquil stepped onto thin air, and his stomach lurched.

In front of him was only looming darkness and shadow, and he could do nothing but stare as gravity dragged him down into it.

The seconds stretched into a lifetime. A lifetime, lived through in mere moments, only to end with a-

Crack.

The little Cyndaquil shot up, flailing wildly. He needed to get away from... the...

...Darkness?

The Cyndaquil took in his surroundings. The ground beneath him wasn't rocky and hard. It was quite soft, actually. Mossy, and just a tiny bit wet. And the cave was filled with light. Strange, bright light unlike the light of the surface, but light nonetheless.

His wounds no longer ached, too. The Cyndaquil felt sore, but that was it. Also, his foreleg seemed to be tied to a stick of some sort. It felt numb.

Was it working right again? The Cyndaquil tried putting his weight on it, and recoiled when a searing pain shot through his foreleg. Nope. Definitely not doing that again.

Now that the Cyndaquil was broken out of his stupor, he noticed that the cave itself wasn't particularly... cave-y. There were walls and a ceiling, yes, but they were all smooth, and placed at right angles to each other. The Cyndaquil found that he was laying right next to one of the walls, and reached out to touch it. Smooth indeed; he could only feel the smallest of bumps on it.

The little Cyndaquil just stood there for a minute, curiously scratching at the wall. It felt comforting, running a paw up and down the smooth surface.

Eventually, though, he turned around. There was still much of the cave to explore. Like, say, the dozens of stacks of shelves neatly arranged rows in front of him. Each of the stacks contained tens of layers of shelves, and on each shelf were a variety of different crystals, all sparkling in the light.

Naturally, the Cyndaquil found himself gravitating to the shiny rocks. He slowly hobbled to the nearest shelf, just off the ground. With some effort, he heaved a paw over the ledge and reached out-

"Hey, hey, don't touch those!"

A sparking... arm? A sparking arm placed itself between the Cyndaquil's paws and the crystal he was reaching for.

He blinked, then turned to trace the arm to its owner. The Cyndaquil found himself facing a slightly frowning, translucent Pokemon. Of course, curious as he was, the Cyndaquil reached out to touch it.

He was quite surprised when his front paw passed straight through, sending a tingle through his body. He quickly drew it away.

"H-hey! Don't touch that either!"

Oh! So it was that Pokemon who made the noise! Just to be absolutely sure, the Cyndaquil reached out to touch it again.

"Hey, hands off!" the strange Pokemon said, way louder this time. Then, it saw the Cyndaquil's startled expression and hurriedly corrected itself, "-I, I mean. Please don't do that. I don't like it."

Although the Cyndaquil didn't understand the words, the intention was clear enough. Don't touch the strange, oddly familiar Pokemon.

Oddly familiar?

Yes. Didn't he see this Pokemon before...?

The Cyndaquil's eyes widened. "Momma?"

Yes! That was the one the Cyndaquil saw, the one who drove away the darkness. And the one who must've brought him to this place, now that he thought about it.

"Momma!"

"Ark! Too close, too close!"

The poor Rotom had no time to react before being tackled head-on by an enthusiastic cannonball of a Cyndaquil.

"Please... off, please."

Oh, right. Momma didn't like getting touched. The Cyndaquil hastily leapt off.

A few seconds passed before a long-suffering sigh was heard. "Kids."

The Rotom floated back up. "What do I do with you? Poor little guy, how did you even get here in the first place?"

It met the Cyndaquil's expectant gaze. "I, I mean, the entrance is at the bottom of a cave last I checked. Surely your mom didn't-"

"...Momma?"

"...I-"

Several different emotions flashed across the Rotom's face at once. Helplessness, then despair, then heartbreak, then resignation, before finally settling on determination. The Rotom took a deep breath.

"Alright little guy, Momma's here for you. Just-" The Rotom gently tugged the Cyndaquil away from the crystals, back towards the bed of moss. "Please don't touch the data crystals, alright? You'll break them if you're not careful."

The Cyndaquil obediently followed.

"You know, this is weird. My first visitor in centuries, and it's a half-starved Cyndaquil falling onto my doorstep. It's a good thing I was here to catch you, though."

"Stay here, alright? Here," the Rotom gestured at the bed. "I'll be back soon with food and water. Momma will be back soon with food and water, okay?"

The Cyndaquil blinked, then laid down on the moss. He threw a questioning glance at the Rotom.

"Yes! Just like that."

The Rotom hurriedly turned around, then just as quickly turned back. "Oh, where are my manners. Welcome to the Archives, visitor! It, uh, seems like you'll be here longer than most, so feel free to make yourself comfortable!"

The Rotom's last words echoed around the room as it flittered away, "Just, please, please don't touch anything while I'm gone!"

Quietly, the Cyndaquil watched the Pokemon leave. His Momma had told him to stay where he was, so that was what he would do. The moss felt comfortable, and the bright light had driven the shadows away. For the first time in his life, the Cyndaquil felt... safe.

Well, his Momma was a bit loud, but that was just him nitpicking. He would take it over the suffocating silence of the cave any day.

Suffocating darkness. Shivering. A terrible screech-

The Cyndaquil slammed down on the memories and curled up on his soft bed of moss. No! he was safe now. A bit hungry and a bit thirsty, sure, but that was nothing to worry about. He had found his Momma, so he knew that in time, everything would be alright in the world.

Everything would be alright.

His consciousness fell deeper and deeper. Soon, he was asleep.