Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Morning is Broken

by Kalmfic

You know the drill. Another human wakes up in the Pokemon world. A thousand stories like this exist. Who cares? Life's a mystery dungeon and we all suck at navigating it. It's why we bother to read stuff like this in the first place; there's no better escapism than reading about an amnesiac cartoon critter who somehow has their shit more together than you do. Godspeed, explorers!

1. Prologue

Everything started, and ended, with the snap of a branch.

That was the irony, in the Grovyle's mind. He'd come to this world through a tree, and he was going to leave through one. It didn't matter that his death was imminent. This coincidence was just too poetic to ignore. The Grass-Type couldn't help but throw his head up in laughter, even as it pained him to move. That was fine. No one was there to see him make a fool of himself this time.

Once the moment had subsided and reality began to sink in, the Grovyle slumped against the bloodstained trunk of the tree that he was tied to. He wondered what the others were going to remember him for. What was his legacy? Where did he fit into all of this? In his mind, he'd never fit at all. He was an outsider, brought to this world for an unknown purpose that he still had yet to find. Maybe there was no purpose. Whatever circumstances were behind his being here, it didn't matter now. All that remained was what little time he had left.

Taking all of this in, his eyes began to well with tears. Whatever higher power had chosen this existence for him could go straight to the Distortion World as far as he was concerned. For as much as he didn't know about himself, he knew that someone did. Someone had put him here. Someone knew exactly who he was, whether they existed in this world or another, and he would die not knowing a thing.

Tears turned to sob when his thoughts turned to his friends. He'd told them not to come for him, but he doubted anything could stop them. They were too stubborn for that. He couldn't blame them - he'd do the same for each - but this was different. This was a no-rescue zone for a reason.

Feeling his breaths getting shorter, the Grovyle began to feel dizzy. He could feel his consciousness slipping away as his surroundings began to distort. Even in the darkness, he could see colors. The green of the foliage. The black of the night sky. A slight hint of red, inching closer and closer. Asbel couldn't place that last one. Maybe that was the color of death. He closed his eyes, waiting for just that.

Red, dark grey, and finally…black.