Steel-Hearted (Pokémon SI)

Summary-

As one of the most famous media franchises to ever exist, Pokémon was supposed to be a light-hearted and optimistic world, where any bad was heavily outweighed by the good. Blood and death were practically nonexistent, topics such as politics were glossed over, and that was to say nothing of how literal children were capable of bringing down entire criminal organizations and otherworldly horrors, who all played by the rules and gracefully accepted defeat upon losing.

Within the strict confines of a video game, meticulously picked over by corporate stiffs milking a cash cow in order to make it presentable to the widest audience possible, all these observations were indeed true. But when fiction becomes reality, as one spatially displaced man finds out the hard way, all of that couldn't be more wrong. Just remember…

"Out of the hottest fire, comes the strongest steel."

An SI-OC story about an experienced steel-type specialist who is about to take part in the first ever PWT in Unova. Pitted against the best of the best, will he and his team be able to rise above all opposition and come out on top?

AN: This story takes inspiration from many other fics (Hard Enough, Traveler, The Most Evil Trainer, I Will Touch the Skies, Tearing the Heavens, etc…) and is meant to be a "post-journey" fic taking place in a grittier and more realistic Pokeverse compared to the light-hearted games or anime, starring an SI who's an established steel-type specialist desperately trying to remain a normal trainer so he can avoid being sucked into the quagmire of interregional politics. Just a heads up, this fic is an AU that doesn't abide by the "canon" timeline of the games or anime.

Chapter 1

Idly, I picked at the hems of the inner sleeves of my newly bought brown jacket as I watched the crowds go by.

Honestly, the thing was a bit gaudy in my opinion, not helped by the hefty price tag that'd been attached to it. But as it had been highly recommended by reputable sources as being one of the best survivalist coats you could get on the market, and I'd no intentions of toughing out another winter with nothing but aura and the warmth of Kirin's body heat after my jacket and everything under it got ruined in the middle of Sinnoh's frigid wilds, needs must and all that... even if it had made my wallet cry a little.

Damn Mamoswine and their stupid territorial instincts that made them so unreasonable. Taking that Thrash to my chest and almost being gored by the stupid thing's tusks hadn't been fun, and I can't say I'd felt that sorry for it when Kingston threw it off Mt. Coronet to its-

"SKAAAAAARR!"

My troubled thoughts were interrupted as beside me, my companion shrieked out her challenge to the throngs of people coming and going, causing some of them to startle and shoot me wary or dirty looks. I snorted at the sight, raising a hand to rub soothingly at the beak of an enormous bird bigger than me who was clad in a natural "skin" of bluish-gray metal armor, her yellow eyes aggressively darting around in search of any who dared meet her gaze.

Meet Atlanta. My personal alarm clock, longtime companion, and… Skarmory.

"Easy girl, we're not in the wilds anymore. Keep making a ruckus like that, and nobody's going to want to approach, let alone fight you." I said with a grin, scratching a particular spot on her beak that I knew she liked as my big murder bird huffed disdainfully at the "cowardice" of the general populace, ruffling her wings with a metallic rattle as crimson feathers sharper than razor blades clattered together.

As you might've guessed by now, I am a Pokémon Trainer. There are thousands if not millions of others like me, but we were separated by one essential fact.

I am not of this world.

"Isekai". "Transmigration". The premise of being picked up and dropped into another reality that wasn't your own was nothing particularly groundbreaking as a concept, but I'd never expected it to happen anywhere outside of fiction, especially when it became my truth. Days slowly became weeks. Then months. Then years. I'd made a token effort of trying to find a way back, but when I found myself at that point of no return… I came to the realization that despite all the hardships I had faced in this world, I would rather stay and live out the rest of my days with all the Pokémon who'd joined me along the way than willingly return to the drudgery of my old life.

Well, that might oversimplifying the exact details of why I chose to make that decision a bit. But when you right to the heart of things, my reasoning didn't get any more complex than that.

True, I missed my family, and old friends at times. But I'd spent almost fifteen years in this world by now, and the pain of loss had dulled to almost nothing. On top of that, I'd made so many new connections and friendships, most of which I'd say were stronger than the ones I'd had in my old world.

Sunlight gleamed off the pokeballs attached to my belt as I shifted on the bench I was sitting on, absentmindedly stroking Atlanta's beak while she nipped at the visor of my newsboy hat like an overly-affectionate parrot instead of the dangerous predator her kind were known to be.

Currently, we were in a large open field bordering a sidewalk of Driftveil city, with dirt floors and chalk squares dictating areas where trainers could have battles without clogging busy streets. It was the second time I'd visited this city in the Unova region, and I had to say, Clay had certainty been successful in turning this once sleepy port into a bustling center of commerce since I'd last been here… oh, I think it was about six years ago.

Amazing how much I traveled these days. Hard to believe that I'd used to be a shut-in content to do nothing but spend my days browsing the web when I wasn't working. If anyone from my old world could see me now, I'd no doubt be practically unrecognizable to them.

Pokémon journeys. For the better or the worse, they changed you as a person. Always.

When I'd woken up on the outskirts of Vermillion city in Kanto all those years ago, I hadn't a clue what to do with myself at first. Getting temporally displaced and losing everything you had with no resources or people to rely on was not a pleasant experience, especially when superpowered wild animals that looked like the creatures from a very popular media franchise jumped out of a bush and attacked you before you could fully come to terms with your situation.

Thank god, Arceus in this case I guess, that I'd almost immediately run into Balor and his swarm, who sent the very aggressive Nidorino and its posse of Nidoran packing with a couple hundred bolts of lighting, before my soon-to-be starter decided I was completely helpless on my own and escorted me to human civilization. Even in the beginning, when he'd been smaller than me, he'd had a protective streak about a mile wide that only got bigger as time went on.

Bruised, bleeding, and with a wild Pokémon following behind me in tow, I stumbled my way into Vermillion's Pokémon Center. Nurse Joy patched me right up and gave me a ball for Balor, but I'd had to endure a long set of uncomfortable questions with the authorities afterwards, since I was a "John Doe" who didn't exist in the Indigo League's database.

That was how I met Lieutenant Surge.

The man had been intimidating at first. As a soldier who'd survived the Great War, he was wary of me, and initially convinced I might be some kind of sleeper agent who'd had his mind messed with by a psychic before being dumped at his doorstep as a ticking time bomb, because tensions between Kanto and Johto had been way higher back then and that was apparently a thing here.

Yeah. While Pokémon had been mostly marketed towards children and kept child friendly in my world, reality here was decidedly not family friendly. Not quite grimdark levels of messed up as the power of friendship was still a thing and all, but this sure as heck wasn't the anime with Ash Ketchum around to save the day.

Now obviously, telling Surge the naked truth about how he and Pokémon were supposed to be fictional characters from a video game series I hadn't played in years wasn't an option unless I felt like seeing the inside of a padded cell, so I fudged the details a bit. Told him how I'd no idea how I had gotten here, and that Pokémon were supposed to be nothing but myths and legends from old stories, as well as the names of a bunch of nations and cities from my old world that he didn't recognize because naturally they didn't exist here.

Somehow, the soldier believed me, or at least that I was being genuine about my plight and that I wasn't a spy from Johto or worse. Aloha had been a closed region during the time I'd appeared in Kanto, so telling him I was probably a Faller who fell out of an Ultra-Wormhole wouldn't have helped matters. Once brain damage and psychic tampering had been ruled out, Surge decided I had likely run afoul of a powerful fairy who altered my memories and stole my identity, because of course some of the Fairy Types were like the fae from European mythology that were capable of doing that. As this misassumption had been convenient as well as mind-numbingly terrifying at the time, I'd never seriously bothered to try and correct him.

Since I had absolutely nothing to my name save the clothes on my back and a single Pokémon I had no idea how to care for, Surge took pity on me and took me under his wing to show me a thing or two about battling, as being an adult without any real ties to this world with no safety net to speak of, Pokémon battling was my only real sink-or-swim option to make a living as I fell into a legal grey area in Kanto's laws and wouldn't get much from their government save a new legal identity and a small monthly stipend that barely covered my basic needs. I don't think I'd ever been as stressed out in my entire life than I'd been during that first horrible year.

In the distance, I eyed a female trainer standing amongst the crowd, her fingers brushing against her belt as she gave me and my Skarmory an appraising look. Pretty young, so probably her first circuit and likely didn't have eight gym badges. I adjusted my sunglasses to ensure we wouldn't make eye contact.

I owed the man a lot. Most of what Surge had taught me in those early days both about battling and general tips were the foundation I'd built myself upon, and I definently wouldn't have done as well as I'd managed for myself over the years if he hadn't shown me that kindness, for all the man had a reputation for being somewhat of an enormous jackass. I hadn't seen him in a couple years, but that would likely change soon with the reason that I and millions of other people had flocked to Unova this year in record-breaking numbers.

Looking up, even from here I could see that spinning billboard atop a building displaying its vivid mural that screamed a challenge to the whole world.

The advent of the first Pokémon World Tournament.

The mesh in my gloves creaked, as even I couldn't fully hold back my mounting excitement.

Kan-Joh. Hoenn. Sinnoh. Unova. Kalos. Galar. Paldea. While there were other regions out there like Aloha and Orre, these particular seven had managed to fully recover from the Great War in recent years, and were all sending their representatives to compete in this massive tournament to see who was truly the best of the best, in addition to trainers like me who were beholden to no one.

Politically, it was an attempt to try and foster better international relations and peace by burying all the hatchets from old rivalries in a way that wouldn't end with millions dead this time, and it was looking like it was going to be the biggest event of this decade.

Definently a security nightmare to plan for though. Let me tell you, I didn't envy Alder or anyone working for the Unovan League or Interpol right now. People tended to go crazy when a foreign gym leader visited another region, and it was even worse when it was a champion. So, I couldn't even begin to imagine how chaotic Driftveil was going to look in a few days when the last of the foreign delegations and tourists finished arriving. With so many bodies coming and going, they'd certainly have their work cut out for them.

Atlanta bristled her feathers in warning as I heard footsteps on the dirt get closer to us, and surprise surprise, looks like that trainer from before was feeling brave. Rubbing my neck as I straightened, I took my first real gander at our maybe-challenger.

…mmm, now there's someone I didn't expect to see. Thought she looked familiar.

Standing in front of us was a teenager who looked almost perfectly like the female protagonist of the FireRed and LeafGreen games, who was referred to as… Leaf, I think? Aside from the fur coat she was wearing, with her white hat, blue shirt and red skirt plus those leg warmers, there was little mistaking it. She stood a little bit aways from us as Atlanta gave her the evil eye, but it seemed she was having trouble finding her words… wait.

Could she be suffering from silent protagonist syndrome in that she couldn't, or didn't speak? While this girl wasn't the first "player character" I'd come across, and I'd found them to all have actual personalities and the ability to hold a conversation so far, maybe I'd finally found a "Red" at last. Either way, guess I'd better break the ice and say something.

"Heya kid. Looking for a battle?" I said with a friendly tone, making sure to keep my hand firmly around Atlanta's beak so she couldn't try to rudely scream out a challenge to the girl's face, and I was right to do so as I felt my bird try to open her mouth.

"Uh…" The girl who looked like Leaf started, revealing she wasn't mute, but I raised an eyebrow at the lackluster response as her cheeks became red and she started trailing off- "…um! I mean yeah! I would like to, sir!" She blurted out, pumping her fist hesitantly and sounding like she was trying to forcibly generate confidence she didn't have.

Ah, the socially awkward teenager. Nice to know that no matter the reality, it would always be a constant. Her words only made Atlanta more excited as she started squirming to break free, but my hand didn't budge as my finger tapped her beak as a sign to be patient, which she rolled her eyes at but adhered to with a snort.

With my freehand I reached into my jacket, pulling out one of my badge cases and opening it to reveal eight sparkling Unova gym badges that I showed to maybe-Leaf, her eyes widening at the sight.

"Well, that's just dandy. But you mind telling me how many badges you got and whether or not this is your first circuit? No offense, but I've been at this a while and you look pretty young." My words seemed to take whatever wind was in there to begin with out of the trainer's sails, as she looked away from me and started twiddling her thumbs.

"…Is it ok if I've never done the circuit in Unova before?"

I blinked. "Sure, not that that really matters. Judging from your eyes, you're Kantonese, right? Probably came here like everyone else to see or participate in the PWT. The regular conference for Unova and all the other regions participating got canceled for this instead, so as long as you have eight gym badges from somewhere, you're golden for the tournament, and for me being comfortable that your Pokémon can go for a tussle with Atlanta here."

After all, my bird would sulk if she swept this poor kid's team without any of her Pokémon giving her a good fight, or at least managing to injure her. As my scrappiest Pokémon, she was a bit of a nutcase like that, but to be fair, going from almost constant battling with extremely strong and territorial wild Pokémon and back to the tameness of civilization after years of roughing it in the wilds on our self-imposed training regime from hell wasn't exactly the easiest of transitions.

"Yeah. I'm hoping to participate at the lower levels… but…" The girl bit her lip, and looked rather ashamed. "…I ran Kanto's circuit for the first time this year and got the eight badges, but my last two… weren't from the main gyms." She finished sadly, her voice almost a whisper as she pulled a badge case from her purse, opening it to reveal six of the iconic Kanto gym badges, but two of them weren't the Earth or… Marsh… Badge.

I frowned, first at an unpleasant memory, but secondly because I didn't see the problem, before almost groaning as I then remembered just how backwards the trainer culture was over in those two-technically-one region(s).

Right, a brief history lesson. About a year after I appeared in this reality, Kanto and Johto finally resolved their cold war and unified into one region connected by bullet trains. As a result, they had a larger population than most regions, which meant that gyms had to deal with a lot more trainers each circuit. Since some gym leaders wouldn't let you challenge them unless you had a certain number of badges (and couldn't be pressured into lowering it because of the soft power and influence they had), the Indigo League came up with the idea of "secondary" gyms as a way to avoid battling fatigue for the non-gatekeeping gyms that weren't the sixteen from the games, and gave out a corresponding badge that qualified for the eight needed to enter the conference at the end of the year.

It sounded simple, but herein lied the problem. Unlike the original sixteen inseparably linked to the history and military might of both regions, these secondary gyms weren't held to the same standards or received the same amount of funding, so they were usually seen as being "easier". Trainers who got badges from them faced stigma from some of the Kanto/Johto elite, who'd see them as "second" or "third"-rate whether they had a full set of eight badges or not, which could cause problems if they were trying to get something like a sponsorship or a mentorship in either one of those regions.

From a personal standpoint, I didn't think it mattered too much for a trainer's first circuit. Most of them used unconventional strategies you didn't see in the "main" gyms, like stacking multiple status conditions like confusion and attract, or the use of field effects like Trick Room. Unlike the usual "type matchup" or "pure power" approaches the main gyms were so fond of, these gyms required more critical thinking and use of a strategy if you wanted to eke out a win, which I felt was a good learning experience for new trainers whose Pokémon probably couldn't brute force their way through. A shame that they were unfairly degraded by tryhards who thought the only viable solution to overcoming a brick wall was by smashing your head through it.

But, like many things, these views were due to historical precedence. In a fight to the death, the more metaphorically bigger and better your "sword" was compared to your enemy's, the likelier you'd come out of a scuffle alive. While Kanto and Johto hadn't seriously fought since the end of the Great War, the wartime mentality between the two regions had never truly left, even if they were now passing it off as extreme "competitive" spirit. In short, it resulted in an incredibly toxic environment for new trainers to dip their toes into, especially if they failed to meet the stringent expectations the elites of their martial societies none-too-subtlety placed upon the shoulders of impressionable minds.

Pokémon training in real life only faintly resembled the games. No matter which region it was, getting eight badges was hard, like ultra hard, and this girl was basically a prodigy who'd been told she wasn't "good" enough after doing something that less than ten percent of the trainer population managed to achieve during their entire battling careers in her first year. I felt bad for her.

Having returned my badge case to its proper place in my jacket, I gave the downtrodden trainer a gentle squeeze on her shoulder, clearing my throat as I wracked my brain for words for a short pep-talk.

"Don't sell yourself short, kid. Just because Kanto and Johto have this obsession about tradition and whatnot that you think you failed to live up to, doesn't mean your victory is any less than it is, ok? Most trainers don't get to eight badges at all, especially a first year like you. So, chin up! As long as you don't backslide and keep pushing your limits to improve, you'll be getting those two "main" badges next year, though I'd recommend you also challenge those other secondary gyms you didn't get at the highest level as well, regardless of what some stuffy elitist thinks of it. I certainly found doing so to be an excellent learning experience."

My little speech seemed to have some effect at lifting the girl's spirits, as a small smile bloomed across her face.

"…thanks mister. You've been to Kanto?"

"Yup, it's where I started my trainer career. I haven't gone back there in years, but it sounds like nothing's changed, the absolute pity." I scoffed as I got up, gravel crunching under my boots. At my full height, I towered over the little lass, whose hat barely came up to my chest as she had to raise her chin to look up at me.

I slightly adjusted the collar of my shirt. "But enough about that! What say you to a small battle, missy? Punching up's one of the best ways to improve yourself, and my Skarmory's spoiling for a fight." My lips turned up, as my smile became toothy. "That said, whether you got eight badges or not, don't go into this expecting to win. Those circuits are nothing more than training wheels, and you're in the big leagues now. There's a world of difference between a rookie and a veteran when it comes the strength of their Pokémon, and we'd love nothing more than to demonstrate that if you're willing to indulge us." I warned her as I lowered my shades.

Steel grey met almond brown, and both of us jerked as we felt it.

The Spark.

A sudden burst of latent psychic energy present in humans, it tended to manifest when trainers made eye contact with each other under certain conditions, for reasons I'm sure you could find in some overly-technical document made by some researcher. Something about trainers having more type energy in them than non-trainers due to exposure to Pokémon using said energy, and essentially an in-universe explanation for a game mechanic that did double duty as a "come and get me" calling card.

Something changed in the trainer's eyes as she straightened, and I could feel my grin stretch as what was once a nervous teenager transformed into a more confident battler who was raring to go. This was who'd managed to get those eight badges, and with a couple more years under her belt, her "blades" would no doubt be a right terror to face in battle.

How fortunate for her, that I happened to enjoy playing the role of "whetstone" to those who I thought showed promise.

"We'll see about that, sir! I accept your challenge!" Quickly stuffing her badge case back into her purse and unclipping a pokeball from her belt, the lass enlarged it, only to pause as I held up my hand.

"I ain't no "sir", but you can relax, I don't bite. My Skarmory might though, but she won't unless I tell her too, right Atlanta?" I said, reaching into my pockets and pulling out a pair of ear plugs, putting them in one at a time as I motioned for the girl to cover her ears, which she did just as I finally took my hand off my fidgeting bird's mouth.

"SSSKKAAAAAAAARRRRRRRMMMMMOOOORRRYYYYYY!" Spreading her razor-sharp plumage, Atlanta proudly screamed her species' name for the entire city to hear, garnering a couple more glares from passerby and making me sigh in defeated exasperation before I rapped my left hand against the bench.

clank! clank! clank!

A little ways away, a glasses-wearing Kadabra who was busy diligently solving a crossword puzzle in a magazine looked up, the Pokémon placing it on a stack of completed ones almost as high as they were as they teleported out of their chair to reappear beside us.

"Wager?" The league-mandated psychic type telepathically asked us in a bored masculine tone.

"I'm intending for this to be more of a learning experience for you than a neck and neck fight, so how about we go for a minimum bet of 100 pokedollars, if that's fine with you, miss…?" I began, before realizing I hadn't even asked this person for her name. A bad habit of mine.

"Leaf. And yeah, that's fine. Will this be a six-on-six, or…" Leaf (Hah, I knew it!) trailed off from what I read from her lips, and I nearly laughed at the implication she thought she'd actually be able to get that far, assuming she wasn't being sarcastic as I couldn't hear her tone of voice. But if that were that the case, we would not be battling right in the middle of a busy city!

"Confident, aren't you? Call me Andrew, and let's just see if you can knock out Atlanta first with eh, three members of your team against her in a 1v1 format. No substitutions, no items, though if you want to do Baton Pass or U-Volt shenanigans, I'm fine with that as long as you stick to the same three Pokémon."

Leaf nodded her head in agreement of the terms I'd set, but I didn't miss how her eyebrows had furrowed when she heard my first name, and I braced myself for potentially being recognized. It was a hassle I'd rather not deal with, but when Pokémon battling was an all-encompassing force that influenced nearly every aspect of society here, it was hard to keep a low profile if you were considered "strong" by the general public. Kinda like being a celebrity, but without any of the wealth or other benefits that made getting stalked by paparazzi and other weirdos worthwhile.

As I'd only run Unova's circuit once, all the way back before I'd made international headlines, it wasn't surprising I hadn't been recognized over here yet, especially since I was wearing clothes that were different from my "signature look". But if it was Kanto… well, there was a good chance Leaf had seen my matches on television while growing up. I'd certainly given her enough hints by accident due to a lack of practice since I hadn't had to hide my identity out in the wilds, but if she had realized who I was, the girl's poker face was impeccable as I watched her calmly walk to the other end of the arena.

Atlanta had already hopped over to her side of the field, her talons digging impatiently in the dirt as I sauntered behind her. There was a bright flash of light, as Leaf threw the pokeball she'd been holding in a perfect arc, the red-and-white capture device breaking open to reveal-

"EEEEEEELLLLLEEEEEC!"

-a humanoid and muscular creature covered in yellow hair with black stripes, with a pair of bulbous antenna jutting out of its head like a pair of horns. Licking its pair of large fangs in anticipation for battle, the Pokemon's tiger-like tail angrily swished side-to-side as it stepped forward and began to spin its arms like a windmill, the motions causing blue sparks of electricity to dance across its fur.

An Electabuzz.

I eyed the second stage evolution with no judgement. The evolution method to make it evolve was unfortunately not as simple it was in the game, as there was no such thing as an Electirizer. Instead, you needed a metric shit ton of electricity enough to power an entire city several times over that would be impossible to fit in a little box. As you can imagine, this made Electivire very hard to obtain, unless your Electabuzz got caught in a cataclysmic thunderstorm or managed to survive being shocked by an extraordinarily strong electric type for an extended period of time.

Still, starting off with a type disadvantage as the first proper trainer fight we'd had in almost four and a half years, kind of brutal. Par for the course really, but I wouldn't complain too much, as it was realistically going to be this poor Electabuzz who was about to be in for a world of hurt.

"Feels like it's been a while since we last did this, hasn't it sweetheart? Have fun, but remember not to get too carried away, kay?" I gently reminded Atlanta, who turned her head to give me an eyeroll with the sarcastic energy of "yes, mom" behind it, before rustling her feathers and giving me an affirmative caw.

Good. While I knew she had more sense than to treat a fight with a trainer's Pokémon the same way she did with territorial or hungry wild Pokémon trying to kill us, it'd been a while since we'd had a fight with no real stakes, and I didn't want an accident. Out in the heart of the wilderness, the wild Pokémon there could be downright savage, and sometimes, being vicious back was the only way to get them to back off when words or intimidation didn't work. In this regard, Atlanta tended to cause the most crippling injuries to her opponents, and while I'd already talked to her about that while I understood she was doing it to keep me and the team safe, she knew in no uncertain terms that she would be getting benched for this entire tournament if she was unable to prove to me that she could dial it back down several notches when it wasn't necessary.

With both Pokémon now on the field, the League Kadabra raised his spoon which began to glow with psychic energy, creating several layers of Light Screen and Reflect that worked in tandem to form a transparent barrier separating the dirt arena from the outside world.

"Trainers, are you ready?" Came the mental inquiry from our psychic referee. We both nodded, causing the Kadabra to bow his head in acknowledgment.

"Begin!"