START Chapter 1: Enter A New World
Holt Locke
The end of the world as I knew it happened on a Thursday. I'd been having a great day up until then, and my life before that moment felt like a fever dream.
Sometimes I wondered if I died, and this was all just a figment of my afterlife. It'd be fitting if it wasn't so painfully realistic. It'd mean all that I had sacrificed would have been for nothing. Still, it'd be better that way.
When future historians document the events of December 28, 2023, it would be known as the day that the world changed forever. All across the globe, the very end of reality as we know it would unfold before us. Life. Death. And everything in between. We call this day the Catastrophe. I don't know if it'll still be called that but I'm willing to hedge a bet that the name sticks around.
After all, it's the day that the pokemon came to life.
[Thursday, December 28, 2023. 13:41 EST]
"-as the National Aeronautics and Space Administration is baffled by the irregular movement patterns of this latest astronomical development, we turn to its administrator Devika Averies for further comment-"
"-Holt?" A voice broke my attention from the television. Of course it happened to be my boss: Miranda Stone.
I had no idea what she had been saying. Thankfully, I had a reputation as the smoothest conversationalist in the Pacific Northwest. Evergreen certified.
"That's great, Miranda. I'd love to help out however I can!" I replied.
"So you're cool to work overtime for the next week?" Miranda smirked. Quite cheekily I might add.
I knew I'd been played. "Sorry. I've got no clue what you're talking about. Explain?"
Miranda snorted. "Follow me, dipshit." The two of us weaved our way through the cubicles until we made it inside of her office. She closed the door behind her, and gestured to the empty seat. As I was sitting down, I prodded the little cactus that Miranda had on her desk. It looked half dead. Miranda was many things but she was hot garbage when it came to taking care of her plants.
Speaking of Miranda, a sudden cough drew me back to her, an expectant look on her face.
I raised an eyebrow. "What's up? Am I getting fired? I'm totally suing you for everything this company is worth, if you're firing me."
"You can talk to Legal after our meeting's over." She pulled out a folder with some papers shoved inside. "Would hate to see you leave, especially since you've been promoted."
Eyeing the document, I indeed noticed the promotion papers. Composed and collected, I had a shit-eating grin on my face. "Thanks Amanda!"
"Miranda."
"Thanks, Miranda! I knew you loved me." I replied.
"I'm doing this so I can get rid of your lazy ass. You'll be working for Marcus, over in Dev. As a journalist."
It was my dream to become a journalist. Ever since I dropped out of college to compete in a video gaming competition, my life had kinda turned downhill. After losing to some random Korean kid on the first day of Nationals, I was basically kicked out of my parents' house and moved all the way to Seattle of all places.
My name is Holt Locke (formerly Herbert Leavenworth). An entry-level copy editor at the Seattle Herald.
As we were making some idle chit chat, filling out the necessary forms, Miranda and I noticed that the entire office had suddenly crowded around the televisions.
We opened the doors, trying to figure out what had gotten everyone so excited.
[Thursday, December 28, 2023. 13:55 EST]
"This just in. It appears as though there will be some form of impact with our planet. Experts have yet to figure out the total damage that we should expect, but there's no cause for concern at this moment."
"My money's on aliens," Eduardo, one of the employees, said.
Another copy editor, Molly, turned to him with a look on her face. "What are you on about, wise-ass?"
Eduardo nodded, a sagelike guise on his face and replied. "That meteor is gonna have aliens on it. I'm telling you. Giant, green, big old tentacles and everything."
"You're such a child. I'll take your money then." Molly grinned.
"If you two are done flirting, then we have tonight's e-edition that needs to be worked on. I'm assuming that none of you want to work overtime on a Thursday night?" Miranda interjected.
"Are you going to actually pay us overtime, chief?" Eduardo asked, a faux innocent expression plastered on his face.
"I pay you too much already, Ramirez. Get back to work," Miranda replied, not missing a beat.
Eduardo grumbled to himself, something about OSHA violations, before begrudgingly stomping back to his cubicle. Molly followed after him, mentioning that he had left his mug or something. The rest of the congregation scattered, their various tasks having been left unaccomplished.
Miranda turned back to me, smiling.
"You can head home for the night, Holt. There's no point getting you started on a project if you're being transferred tomorrow morning. Get some rest, and call your parents. Give them the good news."
Oh, word? I hadn't talked to my parents in like four years. Sure as hell wasn't to pass over this chance though.
"Thanks, Miranda. I've always loved you."
"Get outta here before I have to call up Legal myself," Miranda said, jokingly.
I gathered up what few belongings I had strewn on my desk into a corporate-provided cardboard box, before dipping out of the copy editors' office.
The Seattle Herald. Probably the fifth or sixth biggest publication in the region. And now I was going to be their newest journalist. I might have started singing, if I was any good at that. Years and years of just toiling away at my entry-level corporate job had finally paid off. So many nights of just staring at a computer screen, scanning for minor typos and citation errors. It was a miserable and dreary existence.
Now I'd get to be the one doing the actual writing.
I left the building in such high spirits, allowing myself to start humming. Maybe I'd splurge a bit and go for a burger and some pop at Shake Shack. I don't know.
A giant swarm of pigeons made for an impressive sight overhead. They looked like they were fleeing something, an enthusiastic child or a motorcycle.
I was just starting to make my way home when a giant explosion rocked the ground underneath me.
[Thursday, December 28, 2023. 14:18 EST]
"- the meteor appears to be headed for Tokyo, the Roppongi district of Minato. Authorities are ordering caution, and have been leading evacuation efforts. And… What's that, Jim?"
"... Is that right?"
"...God help us all."
Fire. A giant cloud of flames erupted from the east, the direction of Bellevue.
I ducked for cover underneath one of the archways when the earth started shaking. Cars swerved into the curb. Everywhere, women and children screamed. At least half a dozen windows shattered in the building across from me, spraying glass onto the streets below.
An unfortunate pedestrian found himself on the receiving end of a scooter, flying backwards at least five feet away. I weighed my options, before running over and checking to see if he was alright, only to stop in my tracks. His neck was in an awkward pose, his eyes staring upwards but not seeing me. Dead on impact.
I looked around for the rider. She had abandoned her scooter and was running away, screaming her head off.
9-1-1. I whipped out my phone to call for help. No service.
"Somebody, help!" I shouted out.
There was no point. Everyone was either screaming or on the run.
I managed to catch the arm of a lady who was holding onto her dog. She smacked my hand away, cradling her pet and with tears streaking down her face, continued on her way.
It was only when she shoved past me did I notice that her dog was spasming uncontrollably. It looked to be in excruciating pain, struggling to breathe.
Checking my phone again, there was still no service. I pulled the poor dead man off the street and propped him up against the side of the building. He weighed a ton.
Something, probably adrenaline, was keeping me moving. My heart was racing at a mile a minute, and I had to take a moment to hold back the vomit.
"I'll be back. I promise."
I left my crate of stuff by his unmoving form, before turning around and heading back to the Herald. One of the landline phones there would be my best bet.
Another explosion rocked the skies. This time, a helicopter was spiralling out of control, slamming into the skyscrapers before surging northbound. It was just then that I noticed a blur of silver arcing across the heavens. For a fleet second I was able to see it, but it batted the helicopter aside in its path. A fighter jet perhaps?
I reached the door to the Seattle Herald. Stepping inside, I carefully peered into the main hallway.
About twenty or so people were frantically looking back at me.
"HOLT! What the FUCK is going on outside?" one of the custodial staff, Ryan, asked.
"I need to get to a phone. Right now," I said.
Ryan nodded, and he held open the security door so that I could scramble into the custodians' room. I ran over to the phone and jammed the buttons for 9-1-1.
"All call takers are busy, please hold…"
What the fuck.
I tried it a few more times but received the same message. Since when was 9-1-1 too busy to take calls?
"-Holt?"
It made no sense. An emergency number couldn't have THAT many people calling all at once, right?
"HOLT!" Ryan yelled.
"What is it?" I shouted back.
"Check this out man. Something fucked up is going on in Bellevue."
I ran outside to see what was going on. Several people are once again crowded around a television.
[Thursday, December 28, 2023. 14:32 EST]
The news report plays a clip taken from the air. A man can be seen standing at the top of the Pokemon Company International building in Bellevue. He is surrounded by several armoured soldiers, all aiming their weapons at him and urging him to stand down. His tan suit is in tatters, evidence of his desperate attempt at escape.
"I don't know anything! I don't know! I'm sorry!", the man screams.
A gust of wind knocks the soldiers to their knees. A silvery, crystal-like canine swiftly emerges onto the rooftop.
The man's eyes widened in shock. He stares at the creature.
"Suicune?"
Then in a flurry of ice, he disappears.
"... That was Lead Developer of Special Projects at the Pokemon Company, Mr. Rian Kennings. This has been your reporter, Lawrence Aberdeen. Signing out."
… Suicune?
That jogged a memory. Memories from my years as an aspiring pro gamer. Memories of a game called Pokemon, to which I had devoted several years of my life.
But of course, that was impossible. Pokemon were fictional creatures from a video game.
Just then, one of the other members of the custodial staff, Sheila, yelped in surprise. An office succulent, which she had been taking care of for months, suddenly keeled over and looked to be dead. A flaky powder-like substance began to spray uncontrollably from its tips.
"What the fuck is going on? GET BACK!" Ryan yelled, covering his mouth. He kicked the plant off the desk, sending it about fifteen feet away. The plant continued to spew the powder, a yellow pollen of sorts, covering the custodial carts.
Making sure that nobody had breathed in the powder, I checked outside the room, outwards to the main lobby. A bunch of people were now leaving the building in droves.
I spotted Molly being one of the ones to exit. I ran to catch up to her.
"Molly!"
She turned back, eyes widened. Her mascara was a bit runny. "Holt!"
Molly stumbled over to me, tears actively streaming down her face.
"Molly. Are you okay?" I asked.
It took her a moment to catch her breath. "I- I don't know. A few minutes after you left, the ground started shaking. Miranda. Sh- she…"
"Is Miranda okay?"
"S- She. She's…"
"Is. Miranda. Okay."
She shook her head. No.
I glanced at the elevators before slowly letting Molly down on one of the lounge chairs.
"Where's Eduardo? You two live close to each other, right?" I asked.
She pointed upstairs.
"Wait here. Don't go home alone. Take Eduardo with you." I ordered.
She just nodded.
I bolted to the emergency staircase. Our offices were on the twelfth floor, so I quickly made my way up the flights of stairs. Narrowly dodging several people making their exit, I scrambled upwards in the opposite direction.
Third floor. More people passed me by. I recognised a few of their faces, fleetingly.
Fifth floor. I heard another explosion coming from the outside. The staircase itself seemed to groan from the tremors.
Eighth floor. I felt winded. Jackson from Legal brushed past me. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but turned around and kept going down the stairs.
Eleventh floor. Now it was just sheer determination that was keeping me going. My lungs felt like they were on fire. I checked my watch. 2:54 PM. A little over half an hour had passed since the initial explosion.
I barged through the doors onto the twelfth floor. At this point, the office seemed a lot emptier than when I'd left. I darted past the rows of cubicles until I reached my destination. Miranda's office.
Opening the door, I was not prepared for the sight in front of me.
Miranda was sprawled on the floor, her suit in tatters. Next to her, Eduardo was fiercely slamming a file binder on… a green mound of spikes of sorts. His own jacket was covered in small needle-like pins, and he was bleeding from his forehead.
"EDUARDO!" I yelled..
He ignored me and just kept attacking the green thing.
I had to grab him from behind and drag him away. Eyeing Miranda, I noticed that she was still breathing. Thank God.
Eduardo was crying. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked like a maniac. "THE PLANT! KILL IT!"
"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about, mate. I need you to calm the fuck down."
He shook me off, raising the binder again. "KILL THE CACTUS! KILL IT! KILL IT!"
I looked over at the green thing again. Indeed, it was a cactus. Specifically, it seemed like it was Miranda's cactus, the one that she had on her office desk.
Only now, it had sprouted arms of some kind. Eduardo had smashed it enough times that it didn't appear to be doing much other than twitching.
I shoved Eduardo behind me and pointed to the door.
"Get down to the lobby. Molly needs you." I shouted.
At the mention of Molly, Eduardo seemed to snap out of his frenzied state. "M- Molly? I sent her home!"
I shook my head. "It's fucking nuts out there. Take her home. I'll get Miranda out of here."
He looked worriedly over at the remains of the plant. "You don't understand, Holt. That thing, it attacked her."
I stared at the cactus. It had managed to turn over to its side, so I could make out more details. A small flower in the shape of a crown had grown on its tip. I even made out a few discoloured black spikes in the shape of… a face.
Cacnea. Another pokemon.
Just what exactly is going on?
[Monday, December 28, 2023. 15:22 EST]
"Animals from across the globe have… transformed into what appears to be 'Pokemon'. You heard that right, America, the same fictional creatures that appear in pop culture media through the video game franchise and its associated works. Executives from the Pokemon Company have declined all comments, with its remaining headquarter branches all being overrun by government agents and rioters alike."
I made my way over to where Miranda was lying on the ground. Easing her head into my arms, I was careful not to jostle her too much. Several needles were sticking out of her body, a particularly nasty one right underneath her right eye.
The cacnea was still moving, slowly. It had suffered a lot of damage from Eduardo's blows. In fact, it barely even seemed alive. Its beady little eyes seemed full of scorn, directed at Miranda. Then at me.
I thought back to earlier when I had jammed my finger into it, back when it was still just an ordinary cactus. Probably best not to dwell on that fact.
Miranda began to stir, after I helped her sit up. Her left eye, the undamaged one, slit open. It took a moment to focus before she finally recognised me.
"Holt?"
"Yes it's me, darling. How're you feeling?"
She coughed, a trickle of blood coming from her lips.
"The plant… it got me."
Visibly struggling, she motioned at the cacnea. "It came to life."
"I know. You should have taken better care of it, love. I think it's karma."
She chuckled. Blinking a few times, she turned her head to stare at the heap of green needles on the floor. "D- do you know what's going on?"
"I'll explain what I can, Miranda. But I gotta take care of this first. Do you still smoke?"
"What?"
I patted her knee, reassuringly. "Trust me, just this once. Do you still smoke cigarettes?"
She nodded.
I waddled over to her handbag, digging through its contents. "I need your lighter."
"Check my jacket pocket." She managed to choke out.
Reaching in there while being careful not to aggravate any of the wounds, I pulled out her Zippo lighter. It seemed relatively unscathed, despite the vicious onslaught of the incarnated office plant.
Wasting no time, I flicked the metal piece a few times until the flame caught on. I then crawled over to the plant, and placed the tip of the fire directly onto the cacnea.
"EYYAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" An unholy piercing shriek rang throughout the room. As if it were doused in gasoline, the cacnea burst into flames after making contact with the Zippo.
After a few minutes of ear-splitting screams, the cacnea finally quieted down. Its remains were smoking, but the fire didn't seem to catch onto anything else, and it died in silence.
Miranda just watched me, with a pensive expression on her face. When I was done with the deed, I replaced the lighter in her breast pocket.
Still shaking, she asked question after question.
"What the hell's going on, Holt? What was that thing?"
"It's called a cacnea."
"You've seen one before?" she asked.
"No, I've never seen one before… not in real life, at least." I answered.
"Then how the hell did you know about the fire thing?"
"It's a pokemon. I used to play the games a lot, as a kid."
"Don't be stupid. Pokemon aren't real, Holt. They're just Japanese cartoons."
I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes at my currently incapacitated former boss. "That Japanese cartoon just took out your right eye and nearly killed you, darling. I don't know what else to tell you."
"... well do you know what's going on?"
No. I had no fucking clue what was going on. I shook my head, and her shoulders seemed to slump just a little bit further.
Welcome to the world of Pokemon.
Ayaa Nguyen
[Tuesday, December 29, 2023. 12:00 EST]
The Vice President of the United States of America, Ayaa Nguyen, approached the podium. She gripped the clipboard with clenched knuckles, whiter than snow.
A room full of reporters silently watched her take the stand. The 43-year-old career politician wasn't camera shy, by any means. But today… Today was different. She set the clipboard down on the podium and cleared her throat.
"My fellow Americans," she began. "I am here, in uncertain times, to share what this administration has learned so far. Any information that I disclose has been verified to the best of our ability."
Several cameras flashed. The room full of journalists furiously typed away on their devices.
"Today, we set aside politics. We set aside distractions and focus on the issues of the American people," she said. Her eyes darted to the clipboard, going over the written lines again and again.
"Let's start at the beginning of yesterday's events. The catastrophe of December 28th began with what NASA has identified as several large meteorites impacting the planet."
A projector flickered to life. The world map appeared behind Vice President Nguyen, with red markers hovering over certain points.
"These projectiles showed abnormal behaviour. We do not yet know where they originated from, nor do we have an answer for why we were unable to detect them in advance."
The map cut away to a different screen. Video footage began to play. Tokyo. Tripoli. New York. Chicago. Paris. London. Seoul. Each of them being slammed with spheres of molten rock and fire. Countless buildings were evaporated on the spot. Hundreds of civilians crying out in anguish.
"You may have lost loved ones to this disaster. My heart goes out to each and every one of you. But…"
Ayaa paused. She looked up from her clipboard, eyes glistening.
"Thi- this Catastrophe. It did not end with the meteorites," she said.
Another clip began to play. The fiery remnants of Central Park Zoo flashed onto the screen. Its regular inhabitants, the numerous animals who remained trapped inside, began to convulse and shake. Slowly, one by one, a transformation of sorts began. It happened in droves. A zebra there, a few lions, the crescent bear who was clawing on its cage. They all started to shift and warp.
"Right after the initial impacts, non-human life across the globe all went through the same phenomenon. Some kind of mutation. We believe that this virus has spread through the air and water at an alarming rate. An unprecedented speed which has swallowed every single ecosystem imaginable."
The crescent bear stopped clawing. It hunched over, spilling out the content of its stomach. Heaving and heaving until it finally regurgitated everything inside.
It lay still on the ground, unmoving.
One second. Two seconds.
It did not budge, appearing to be dead.
And then it rose again.
At least three feet taller than it had been before, it now stood at an impressive stature. With paranormal ease, it smashed apart the steel fence with a single swipe of its paw. Covered in chocolate brown fur, it now bore a striking circular emblem on its belly and upper torso.
With a mighty roar, it barrelled out of the enclosure.
And then the footage stopped rolling.
Ayaa Nguyen paused for a moment, before continuing with her address, "As of right now, this disease has yet to manifest itself in any human hosts. We still urge the most extreme caution while the Center for Disease Control figures out more about this virus."
The black screen behind Nguyen morphed into another image. This time, the reporters collectively gasped at the sight. A male journalist sitting in the back of the room began to audibly sob as the next video played.
Amidst the fires consuming Tripoli, a gargantuan creature stumbled out of the chaos. A hulking, reddish beast emerged from the meteorite fragments, rising up to its full height of several stories. Two giant yellow eyes stared into the carnage below, as it took in its surroundings.
The sound of sirens wailed through the footage. For minutes that seemed like hours, nothing happened. The creature just soaked in the city below, at the screaming inhabitants.
A single eye glared into the camera, as if it knew that someone or something was watching.
Then with a guttural roar, the creature threw its head back and spat hellish flames into the heavens. The ground around it began to rumble, fissures emerging like spiderwebs in the streets.
A stomp of its right foot sent a shockwave coursing across the pavement, tearing apart the concrete like it was made of jelly. It began to slowly approach the Burj Bulaya Office Tower 1, the tallest building in Tripoli.
And it snapped it in half with a sickening punch to its centre.
The camera cut to black once more, and the room practically exploded.
Several uniformed officers weaved through the crowd to try and maintain some semblance of order. The crying reporter from before was escorted out of the room by a pair of armed officials.
After that, Nguyen had to shout into the microphone several times to be heard, until the room finally died down enough for her to speak. She took a sip from her glass, before once again addressing the White House correspondents.
"We have identified this creature as a groudon," she raised her hand to silence the few outbursts from the crowd. "Please reserve any questions until we have finished the briefing."
Ayaa's gaze swept across the room. A pleading, weary expression sculpted in her face.
Pictures of major cities throughout the world showed up on the screen. A blue whale-like beast submerging several islands off the coast of Italy.
"Kyogre."
Two draconian creatures spiralling around the Empire State Building, sending sparks and flames into the skyscrapers of Manhattan. Tangled in a dance of fire and lightning, these beasts laid waste to anything in their path.
"Reshiram and zekrom."
The cathedral of Notre Dame crumbling into itself. A deer-like figure emerges from the rubble, basking the streets of Paris with its ethereal glow.
"Xerneas."
Finally, the White House itself showed up on the projector. Nothing seemed amiss. Nothing is out of place.
A single entity was lurking above the historic building, wings remaining still without beating, yet it remained high in the sky. It stared at the camera, unmoving. A pale crimson glow radiated from its body.
"Yveltal."
Not wanting to miss a single moment, the cameras in the room were glued on the Vice President and the projection behind her.
Ayaa chose her next words cautiously. The atmosphere was like a keg of dynamite, just waiting to explode. Millions of Americans, of people from all over the world, would be listening.
"This image of the White House was taken a few minutes after the Catastrophe," she said, gesturing at the screen behind her. "And at exactly 5:03 PM…"
The next slide came with a video clip.
The White House is shown. It stands proudly, undisturbed and untouched.
With a flap of its wings, the yveltal snarls at the building.
And the heart of the United States of America is vaporised in a ball of dark energy. As if it were never there in the first place.
"... 203 staff members, six U.S. senators, and… The President of the United States of America-"
The last few words were barely more than a whisper.
"-have all been killed. As of yet, there are no survivors."
END Chapter 1: Enter A New World
A/N: Re-writing this series, due to so many glaring errors. Please let me know if there's anything else I can improve upon!