Latte ran. Well, he flew, on Ashcroft, which achieved the same purpose: getting away from the creepy old man. He needed to get far away, miles away, years away if he could. What the hell was that?
Rhetoric aside, he had to think of somewhere to land. Somewhere out of the way. Somewhere... remote, where he could think. Somewhere like Cinnabar Island. Hmm. But where would a place like that exist? Oh, wait.
Cosmic Latte decided he didn't want to be around people, so he went down to the beach. He'd hurriedly stopped by the local Pokémon centre, and withdrawn his Lapras from the PC there. Lapras didn't have a name; it was just Lapras. He'd traded it for a pidgey a few months ago. And so on the lapras Latte lounged, lucid but languid. He was still quite afraid of what he'd seen. That certainly wasn't the capture of a Pokémon; it was like... things were phasing in and out of existence, black boxes floating in his eyes. The PC would do that sometimes with people's elite four records if there'd been a connection error. 'At the risk of repeating the narrative, what the hell was that?' said Latte to Lapras, lamenting his latest lot in life.
And of course, the laws of narrative conventions demand that the situation must take a turn for the worse. Of course. It was foggy. Latte wasn't too sure how long it'd been foggy for, but the scene had melted around him. He looked up; the moon was huge in the sky. Which was odd, to say the least. And there was a shape, barely visible in the distance. In Latte's opinion, it wasn't distant enough.
WILD MISSINGNO APPEARED.