I sat on my couch, just wondering about stuff. Not stuff you find on the news and such. Not the sort of stuff where it makes you gag in repulsion, or necessarily the sort of thoughts that makes you smile. I wasn't thinking of good or bad stuff.

But both. I guess what I was thinking about was more in between. Not necessarily good or bad. Just like everything else in this world. It was a mix of both.

For a person who only knows what I accomplished… they'd see the good. They might look at me with reverence on their face. Or maybe you're a person who heard what I did. You might be more disgusted. But as a person who saw my journey as I saw it… you'll understand the fame and glory that came from my actions, but also the pain that I brought upon myself and others.

You may ask… what about me? What do I think about what I've done? If that is the question you wanted to ask me, then I am sad to disappoint. I truly don't know what to think about it.

I feel a gush of pride whenever someone tells me I changed their life for the better. A friend, an acquaintance, or even a total stranger. I saved them. There is no doubt about that… that is what my friends tell me whenever they notice I'm contemplating my existence.

But I also find myself hearing the voices of all those people I hurt or killed in my dreams every week. They've gotten better over the years… but I don't think they will ever truly go.

I guess most of my trauma came from the 4 years of being a Hoennic soldier. I was drafted at age 15. Hoenn's laws made people from ages 15-35 eligible for the draft. I do indeed think 15 is a young age. Getting drafted at 15 was a rare thing though, but I passed all the tests which made me a soldier.

The terrors of those years stay with me today.

When Kalos took over Hoenn, everything seemed to get worse and worse. Kalos had no care for us. But we were still soldiers. We had a use. They used us, but when our cost was more than our usefulness. They sold us off. If Kalos was cruel to us, it was nothing compared to how we were treated when Magma had control over my part of Hoenn.

Aqua Hoenn was no better though… that's at least what I heard from former Aqua Hoenn residents.

Our rations in the military were cut down heavily, and most of the time infected with Ratata's and other pokemon who got to the food before we could. But it was the only food we could eat, so most of us just ate it. I lost more friends to the infected food than from battle itself.

Then came the final battle.

I was unlucky enough to be chosen for it. I thought it was just another battle when my regiment was picked. My male friend, William, was also chosen for it. He was around five years, my senior. He grinned at me as he clapped me on my back.

Whatever that thing was… that huge monster. It appeared out of nowhere. I saw people turned into flesh puddles. My friend William was among those people. I still see him in my dreams, one of the few people who were kind to me when I first arrived and throughout my entire experience. My best friend for over four years.

I didn't realize I was screaming until one of my colonels grabbed me, and shoved me to the ground. He was some Magma-appointed officer. He kicked me in the ribs and yelled at me for my cowardice. He then marched off leaving me to cry in agony and pain at both my friend and my ribs.

I forced myself to get up because I knew that the man wouldn't hesitate to shoot me for my cowardice… I've seen it before in person. I got up and kept fighting. Hiding, fighting, hiding, fighting. Not much else I can do. Somehow, I survived. Unlike so many other soldiers. Millions of soldiers and pokemon decimated so only around 200,000 came out alive.

Not unscathed… but alive.

Later, I joined an Insurgency. That is where I get my fame from. People know me not for being a soldier… but for being an insurgent who mostly did espionage. Nothing could have prepared me for what would happen next. And all it took was that one little mistake.