The grocery store was a madhouse. Beeping registers, buzzing lights, and customers talking way too loudly. It all blurred together into one giant headache. I stood at my register, scanning item after item, forcing a polite smile that I didn't mean. The shift felt like it would never end.
Just a few more hours, I thought, glancing at the clock for what had to be the hundredth time. My feet ached, and my back felt sore, but I kept going. I've been saving up for a while now as I want to get a car for myself soon, nothing fancy but I'm really sick of not being able to go out with my friends as none of us had a vehicle.
I just had to make it through my shift, and school tomorrow before the weekend. Between work, homework, and saving up, there wasn't much time for anything else.
The only thing getting me through the day was the thought of getting home to play my next Monolocke run. Maybe a classic one? Fire-red… yeah that sounds like fun. I'll just use a randomiser to pick my type and starter.
Pokémon games had been my thing for years, and even at 16, I was still completely hooked. Despite the judgemental looks I got from my classmates, I couldn't care less if they didn't like Pokémon.
I loved it.
Every second dragged on. Each beep of the scanner felt like it was getting louder, the endless parade of questions blending into a dull, repetitive hum. "Do you have this in another size?" "Can you double-bag that?" "Oh, wait, I forgot something, can you wait a moment?" I barely even heard myself answer anymore, just running on autopilot.
During a rare quiet moment, my mind wandered. Nintendo was supposed to announce a new console soon, and I couldn't wait to see what it was. Hopefully, the next Pokémon games would be bigger and better, maybe a true open world. And maybe less glitchy this time, I thought, chuckling to myself.
Finally, my shift ended. I tore off my uniform, grabbed my bike, and took off. The cool evening air hit my face, cutting through the gross, stuffy feeling I'd been carrying all day. My mind drifted back to Pokémon as I pedaled home. I'd been playing forever, picking Bulbasaur as my first starter, building teams, even entering a few tournaments just for fun.
Most of the tournaments I'd been to were thanks to my friends' parents driving us. Maybe once I had my own car, I wouldn't have to miss out so much.
Not that I'd ever placed highly or anything I've come close a few times but not managing to break through into the top 3, but still, it was fun to battle people face-to-face. Maybe I'd check if there were any events coming up soon nearby. It would be cool to meet up with some of my Pokémon playing friends again. Maybe I should make a new team? It's been a while since I put together anything fun that wasn't all about stalling.
Maybe I could rope Josh and Mason into doing another tournament? It's been forever since we'd teamed up for anything, and I kinda missed those late-night Pokémon marathons.
The thought made me smile. It would be fun to kick their asses, as its been such a long time since I've been able to make it to a tournament, as none were nearby and I only just got my license.
I was so caught up in those thoughts, I didn't notice the truck.
The blaring horn snapped me back, but it was too late. I turned my head and saw it—a huge truck bearing down on me. My body froze. My brain scrambled for something, anything, but all I could think was, 'Not fucking Truck-Kun...'
The thought almost made me laugh, even as the truck hit. Pain shot through me, then faded as everything went numb. I was lying on the pavement, staring at the dark sky. Blood pooled around me, but I couldn't feel it anymore.
So this is how it ends, I thought. Taken out by a damn truck. Classic.
A dull ache settled in my chest, heavier than the pain in my body. This wasn't how things were supposed to end. Not like this. There was still so much I wanted to do—so much I should've had the chance to do. Traveling, meeting new people, just… living.
The thought of everything I'd never get to see or experience burned in the back of my mind. My hands clenched weakly against the ground. It wasn't fair. I didn't get a choice. It was just taken from me, my time, my chance to do something, to be something.
A bitter laugh escaped me, sharp and hoarse. "Maybe," I muttered, my voice barely audible over the ringing in my ears, "maybe I'll get to be a Pokémon trainer in the next life. Traveling, catching Pokémon, seeing the world…" My words trailed off as the heaviness in my chest grew.
I couldn't stop the faint curl of a bitter smile. If there even was a next life, I thought, it better give me the chances this one didn't.
The sky above blurred, the stars smearing together like streaks of light as my vision faded. My body felt heavier, my breathing shallower, and then…
Nothing….
Just silence, and a warmth surrounding me. peacefully washing over me as if I was laying in an ocean of comfort.
Is this death?
It wasn't what I expected. I thought there'd be fear, or maybe just nothing at all, maybe we just got snuffed out. But instead, there was peace. A calm I hadn't felt in years, maybe ever.
The darkness wasn't what I expected. I wasn't sure what I'd been expecting, honestly, but this wasn't it. It was so quiet, so still. Too still. My thoughts kept moving, bouncing off one another in endless circles. Was I really dead? If I was, shouldn't something be happening? The thought stuck in my mind, turning over and over as my awareness lingered in the void.
This can't be it. Is this it? The calm was starting to feel less comforting and more like an empty waiting room. No sights, no sounds, no distractions. Just... me, stuck in my own head. Forever.
God, how boring would that be? My thoughts ran rampant, filling the silence with every random memory and question imaginable. Could I recite every Pokédex entry I'd ever memorized? Probably. What about every type combination, had they done all the dual typing's yet? My brain jumped from one idea to the next, desperate for something, anything, to break up the monotony.
I almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it. I'd complained about wanting peace and quiet so many times, and now here I was, getting exactly that.
Just as I felt like I'd spiral into madness from my own overthinking, something broke through. A sound. It was faint at first, warped and distorted, but there. My sense of sound returned, albeit muffled by what felt like thick water. The hum of machines, faint voices overlapping.
My racing thoughts paused, replaced by a new one: What the hell happened? Am I not actually dead?
Just as I felt like I'd spiral into madness from my own overthinking, something broke through. A sound. It was faint at first, warped and distorted, but there. My sense of sound returned, albeit warbled by what felt like thick water. The hum of machines, faint voices overlapping.
"Subject S-32 initiating cell replication. DNA synchronization at 83%."
The voices faded in and out, muffled and distorted like I was underwater. My head swam, my thoughts sluggish and disjointed. I couldn't feel my body. Or, I could, but it didn't feel right.
Everything was numb to the touch, but from what I could tell. I was extremely squishy?
Did I lose all my bones? Am I just a bag of flesh?
Oh god I'm a bag of flesh why didn't they kill me? Who the hell thought I'd like to live as a bag of flesh!?
Pausing for a moment as a the one sane thought I had kept the rest of me from spiralling. If I was a bag of flesh, how would I have been able to move and feel my body? I mean, you need muscles, but you also need the bones that hold the muscles in place otherwise your just a pancake.
And I didn't feel like a pancake. Ignoring the fact the truck did flatten me like one.
Was I dead? No. No, this couldn't be death. My brain felt like it was wrapped in cotton, my thoughts sluggish and distant, but I was thinking. So, I had to be alive, right?
Maybe I was in a hospital. Yeah, that made sense. The machines, the voices—they were faint, but they were there. Doctors, maybe? Nurses? They sounded... frantic. Something wasn't right.
"I'm telling you, the neural activity is off the charts," a voice said, sharper and louder than the rest. "Subject S-32's alertness levels are much higher than expected."
"But the body's still in a half-asleep state," another voice added, quieter and more hesitant. "It's like... it's aware but can't fully engage. Almost like it's stuck between two states."
The words floated past me, fragments of a conversation I couldn't fully grasp. Alertness? Half-asleep? What the hell were they talking about?
I tried to move, but nothing happened. My body didn't respond. Panic bubbled up in my chest, my heart—or whatever was left of it—racing. What was wrong with me? Why couldn't I move? Was I paralyzed? In a coma?
"Let's increase the monitoring parameters," the first voice said, a hint of urgency creeping in. "If this activity keeps spiking, we'll need to escalate the timeline."
Timeline? Monitoring? My sluggish thoughts stumbled over the words, trying to piece together what was happening.
Maybe some sort of governmental trial to revive people? Oh god am I a clone!?
Am I just some sort of memory goop!?
Out of nowhere alarms started blaring, cutting through the muffled haze that had filled the room. The voices shifted, growing more frantic, "Shut it down! Grab what data you can and wipe the rest! M-2 managed to escape containment and the guards are doing their best to slow it down but its coming this way!" one of them shouted. Another voice barked back, "We don't have time for that, just destroy the machines!"
Heavy boots pounded against the floor, the chaos escalating with each passing second. The faint hum of machinery was overtaken by the sound of metal screeching, glass shattering, and panicked orders being barked from every direction. My sluggish mind tried to process it all, but the disarray outside only added to the confusion.
Suddenly, something heavy and oppressive swept through the room. The clinical feeling that had settled in the background was gone, replaced by an aura that felt like rage given form. It pressed against me, suffocating and raw, as though the very air around me had turned hostile.
"What is—" one of the voices started, but it cut off sharply, replaced by the sound of shattering glass and a scream.
I felt it then. The rage that pressing down on me, overtaking my thoughts. For a brief moment, I was consumed by it: anger, bitterness, revenge. It was overwhelming, and I almost blacked out.
But then it changed.
The oppressive feeling shifted, softening as it passed over me. Pity. That's what it was now, a sorrow so deep it made my chest ache. And somehow, I knew it wasn't mine. It was coming from something else. Whatever had entered the room, felt me, and pitied me.
But why? Was I right about being human soup?
A loud crack split the air, and suddenly the pressure surrounding me vanished. My world tipped, and I spilled onto a hard, cold surface. For a moment, all I could do was lie there, gasping as every inch of my body was in pain.
The aura of rage and pity hadn't disappeared; it was closer now, still washing over me, but the power of the wave had increased dramatically. My body attempted to tense, but that just resulted in more pain, and I felt something foreign, gentle wash over my senses. The presence was doing something.
Feeling certain things snap, not painfully, but things started to reconnect. My mind that had been erratic and jumping from emotion to emotion seemed to… Expand? Yeah… my mind seemed faster then before, clearer then I remembered it ever being.
Old memories that I had long forgotten coming back, filling in blank spots of my memory.
My pain lessened as I coughed, fluid being pulled from my lungs as I took in huge gulping breaths.
Numbness faded, replaced by sensation, I could feel the cool floor below me. The warmth of the liquid I had been bathed in fading to a chill.
Then it froze, as if it hesitated. For a fleeting second, I thought it might leave me half-fixed. But no, it moved again, slower this time, addressing something deep within me. Whatever feeling the aura gave off didn't feel like pity anymore. It was reluctant for some reason.
It repaired the few things still causing me pain, before that gentle feeling that held me faded, as if it had been pulled back.
The presence faded, leaving me in a strange, breathless silence. My body still felt wrong. Squishy and soft, but I could feel again. I had regained some wiggling like movement.
Trying to move my arms and legs left me realising something else. Where the Fuck are my limbs!?
Blinking rapidly as I needed to be certain I wasn't limbless, my vision started to clear slightly. Watery liquid dripping down my face, as I caught sight of a towering figure. Its silhouette was a sleek white, its form emanating a faint, otherworldly glow. For a moment, I saw its smooth, pale body and a long, purple tail floating behind it.
Its eyes locked onto mine, and I felt that same pity return. The connection was brief, fleeting even, but it left an imprint that sent a chill down my core. The being didn't speak, but it hadn't needed to.
It healed me, after nearly killing me. That much I could feel from the strange aura the creature gave off.
The figure turned away, disappearing as the world around me started to explode, blasts of light, fire, and electricity.
I lay there, motionless, as the world turned into chaos. The alarms, the shouting, the explosions, it all blurred together into a cacophony of noise and light. I didn't know what was happening. I didn't know where I was, or what I was, or how I'd gotten here.
I just knew one thing.
I needed to get out of this place before it comes down.
But first I needed to move. My body seemed sluggish, not responding the way it should. It didn't move properly, but I had to get out.
My breath came in shallow, frantic bursts. I tried to move again, to force some part of my body to respond, but it was like trying to move a truck stuck in park.
The world shifted slightly, a loud crack sounding out above me. Something wet splashed down nearby, and I turned my focus towards the source. Through the blurry chaos, I saw a thick cable dangling from above, sparks flying as it swayed dangerously close to a puddle.
A puddle I was lying in.
Panic surged through me. I didn't know what would happen if those sparks hit the liquid I was in, but every instinct screamed it wasn't good. The cable above me swayed and sparked violently, crackling with energy. I had to move. Now.
I tried to push myself up, to roll or crawl away, but nothing worked. My body didn't respond the way it should. A strange chill ran through me as I tried again, harder this time, but all I managed was a weak wobble.
"Move!" I shouted, though the sound came out garbled and wet. My voice startled me, it didn't sound like my own. What the hell had happened to me? My vision was still blurry, but as I blinked rapidly, trying to clear it, the world sharpened just enough for me to catch sight of my body.
I froze.
What the hell…? I wasn't me. My arms, my legs... were gone. Instead, I was this strange, gelatinous blob of light blue goo.
For a moment, everything else faded. The alarms, the shouting, the danger—they all blurred into the background as I stared at myself. Was I… a slime? Some kind of RPG monster? The thought was absurd, but there I was, a puddle of sentient goo lying helplessly on the floor.
Then the cable sparked again, and reality came crashing back. The sharp crack of electricity snapped me out of my stupor, and I realized the danger hadn't passed. If anything, it was getting worse. The cable jerked violently, swinging lower, and another spark hissed as it hit the puddle mere inches from me.
"Come on, move!" I yelled at myself, forcing my body to respond. My form wobbled again, jerking slightly, but it wasn't enough. The cable swung closer, its crackling sparks raining down like a deadly warning.
I took a shaky breath, and tried to focus. My body wasn't human anymore. I couldn't move the way I used to. If I wanted to survive, I had to figure out how a slime moved.
Instead of imagining limbs, I focused on the way my body felt pressed against the floor, the cool, solid surface beneath me. I pictured myself pushing off of it, using the squishiness of my form to compress and stretch forward. It was awkward and unnatural, but when I tried again, I shifted slightly forward.
The cable sparked again, the heat of it searing the air just behind me. My panic spiked, and I pushed harder, compressing my body like a spring and stretching forward as far as I could. It wasn't graceful, but it worked. I gained another inch, then another.
"Come on!" I growled through gritted teeth. The effort was exhausting, but I couldn't stop now. Another spark flew, sizzling against the edge of the puddle, and I threw everything I had into one last push. My body stretched farther than before, and I finally slid clear of the puddle, collapsing into a dry patch of the floor.
The cable jerked again, one final arc of electricity snapping through the air where I'd just been. I stared at it, trembling as the realization sank in. I'd almost died, again. My body quivered with exhaustion, but I didn't care. I was out of immediate danger for now.
My breath came in shallow, shaky bursts as I processed what had just happened. The sharp tang of burnt air filled my senses, and I couldn't help but let out a weak, almost delirious laugh.
I could move. Not well, sure as hell not fast.
But I could move.
I hadn't died… That was good.
Now that I wasn't focused entirely on keeping myself alive, the world around me came rushing back into focus. The shouting, the pounding footsteps, the chaos I'd barely been aware of earlier... it was quiet…
The alarms still blared, their shrill wail echoing through the halls, but everything else had fallen eerily silent. I glanced around, or more accurately, turned the vague blob that was me.
What I could see didn't make a lot of sense.
The room was massive, filled with rows of strange machines and flickering monitors. Most of the equipment looked like it had seen better days, some of it was sparking, while other pieces lay broken, scattered across the floor like garbage.
The floor itself was a mess. Cracks spiderwebbed through the tiles, and some parts looked like they'd been blasted apart entirely. Some sort of battle before I was fixed?
I shifted a little, stretching one of my... limbs? Appendages? Whatever I was calling them now. It felt odd, but the motion was steady, controlled. Slowly, I slid myself forward, taking care to avoid the sharp-looking debris scattered around me.
I glanced up at one of the shattered monitors, its screen still flickering weakly. For a second, I thought I saw something in the reflection—a small, squishy blob of light blue goo.
That... was me, wasn't it?
I froze, staring at the reflection. My mind struggled to process what I was looking at, even though it was right there. Light blue, slightly shiny, and unmistakably goo.
"What the hell..." I muttered—or thought I did.
My breathing quickened as the realization sank in. I wasn't human anymore. That much was obvious. But…
"Am I a Ditto?" I could barely whisper, my voice sounding wet, like someone was talking with slime in their throat, though I suppose I did.
Slowly reaching out with my 'arm' and touching the screen, I could see the blue ditto in the reflection do the same.
Before I could spiral any further, another explosion rung out, and I could hear something collapse further away in the building—or lab? Wherever I was. The noise shook me out of my stupor.
I didn't have the luxury of time; I needed to figure out what the hell was going on.
Glancing around, I could see the broken remains of what looked like a glass tank near where I'd woken up. It was large, cylindrical, and shattered. It looked like it was squeezed inwards? What the hell could have done that?
Ignoring that terrifying thought, it didn't take a genius to realize I had been in there.
But why? Did it have something to do with that strange presence before I woke up?
I had too many questions and not enough time to find the answers.
I started to search the lab again, this time closer to the tube I woke up in. Sitting next to it, partially broken, with a cable connecting to the remains of the tank was the lone unbroken computer, with a cracked monitor.
The thing looked ancient, something out of the 90s maybe? How they managed to grow or transform me while using a computer this old was baffling, but maybe I'd be able to figure out how to break into it easier? Try and see what the hell was going on.
I might not know a lot of stuff, but I'm pretty good with computers. Hell if I hadn't built my last one I would've had a car by now… I should've waited on building that computer, I still used the laptop my parents bought me whenever I wanted to watch a show or do any sort of challenge run as I could lay on my bed with it to look things up quickly.
Reaching out and grabbing the mouse, the monitor switched to the home screen. A large red 'R' stood emblazoned as the background.
Is this a Team Rocket lab? The idea flickered in my mind.
It made sense. Team Rocket created Mewtwo by attempting to clone Mew from DNA they managed to get from... somewhere. And that would make me a failed clone… a Ditto.
Things were starting to make a bit more sense. Though, not my arrival.
How did I get here? Why am I a Ditto?
I tried to piece together what might have led to this. The absurdity of the situation started to sink in.
Oh fuck, was the legend of Truck-Kun real? Did it actually bring me here and turn me into… this?
I don't know how. Was Truck-Kun really some kind of universal force? A cosmic joke made real?
Was Truck-Kun an actual force in the universe!?
The sound of an explosion ringing out stopped me from spiraling further.
I could deal with the idea of Truck-Kun later. For now, I needed to figure out if there is any data left on this computer for me to read, or if they deleted anything off of it before running out.
Opening the files was simple. However, this outdated piece of tech was slower than me two minutes ago.
Experiment Log – PROJECT – M2-H
Lead Researcher: [Redacted]
Subject Designation: S-32
[LOG ENTRY 1] Date: January 28, 1998
The S group of experiments was initiated following the failure of the R group. Initial successes with M-2 demonstrated the immense potential of combining Mew DNA with carefully calibrated genetic material. However, M-2 has too much power and will for us to control. The focus of the S group trials has shifted to identifying what allowed the original formula to succeed and whether human DNA can serve as a stabilizing agent.
Early subjects within the S group displayed minor successes but were plagued by severe genetic instability, leading to rapid cellular degradation and failure. Out of the original 15 specimens, all but one have been terminated due to unsustainable conditions. However, a new development has occurred: an unidentified body maybe around 15 or 16 years old, appeared within the facility, seemingly teleported in without any traceable origin. Extensive searches through League and global databases yielded no records of this individual's existence.
[LOG ENTRY 2] Date: February 5, 1998
The unidentified body measures approximately 5'9", male, with a somewhat athletic build. Physical attributes include choppy brown hair and pale skin. The corpse sustained extensive, fatal trauma before its arrival and was deceased upon discovery. Alongside the body, researchers recovered several peculiar items, including a bicycle, an assortment of unfamiliar paper currency, a small handheld device resembling a tiny monitor, and a compact device shaped like a book that appears to function as a portable computer.
Despite its condition, initial DNA analysis of the body revealed remarkable compatibility with the hybridization formula. The team has elected to use a brain sample for the final stage of the S group trials. Given the specimen's complete lack of records, ethical concerns regarding its utilization have been mixed among staff, given the age of the child, but we do what's necessary. The second phase of testing with the new DNA set is scheduled to begin by the end of the week.
[LOG ENTRY 3] Date: February 15, 1998
The integration of the new DNA sample has shown extraordinary results. Cell replication has reached 83% synchronization, a breakthrough compared to prior S group specimens. Neurological mapping reveals unusual activity levels, though irregularities have begun to manifest. Tissue cohesion appears stable for now, and the single remaining specimen—designated S-32—has been classified as the final test of the current S group.
Researchers have also managed to develop a makeshift charging cable compatible with the compact computer found alongside the body, which they hope to use to reboot the device. However, attempts to access the smaller handheld device have been unsuccessful due to its locked state. Efforts to bypass its passcode continue. Additional tests are being conducted to ensure sustained viability.
[LOG ENTRY 4] Date: February 20, 1998
Despite initial success, S-32's genome exhibited signs of collapse under replication stress. However, an unanticipated phenomenon occurred: the specimen's cellular structure autonomously reassembled, stabilizing itself beyond all projections. This level of resilience has never been observed in previous subjects. Preliminary theories suggest that the incorporation of the brain tissue from the unidentified corpse played a significant role in this unprecedented outcome. Further analysis is underway.
The compact computer recovered alongside the body has finally booted up, revealing an interface that appears far more advanced than initially anticipated. However, access to its system remains locked, and all attempts to bypass its security have failed. The smaller handheld device also remains inaccessible, with no progress made in identifying its passcode. If the research team cannot successfully break into the compact computer within the next phase, plans are being made to involve a field specialist with expertise in decryption and advanced technology.
[LOG ENTRY 5] Date: February 25, 1998
Subject S-32 has begun displaying advanced neurological activity, including measurable cognitive responses. Brain wave patterns suggest the potential for higher-order thinking. Though the subject remains inert within its containment tank, unusual energy fluctuations have been detected emanating from it, resulting in S-32 malforming into another Ditto. These fluctuations appear to coincide with spikes in neurological activity. The implications of this development remain unclear, but containment protocols have been reinforced as a precaution. Continuing to monitor S-32 in case of reformation before completing the stabilization process.
Attempts to access the compact computer and handheld device recovered alongside the body have stalled. As a result, the team has contacted a field specialist skilled in advanced decryption and technological analysis, who is expected to arrive within the next few days to assist with breaking into the systems. For now the devices are being stored in the storage room down the hall. I wasn't going to let them take such interesting devices away before I could see what they did.
Additionally, further analysis of the brain sample used as the base for this experiment has led to an intriguing discovery. A side-by-side comparison between the body's DNA and that of the research team reveals fundamental differences in genetic structure. While there are a few similarities, the body's DNA exhibits a completely unique configuration, suggesting it originates from a different evolutionary lineage of humanity. Physically, this human-like species appears weaker, but it possesses an extraordinary range of resistances to diseases that are unknown to modern science. These immunities and their potential link to S-32's unexpected resilience warrants further investigation.
[LOG ENTRY 6] Date: February 28, 1998
M-2's escape has resulted in catastrophic damage to the facility. Security measures have failed, and multiple containment breaches have been reported. Most of the research team is evacuating or is unaccounted for. Subject S-32's containment tank was compromised during the incident, and the specimen has been observed exhibiting initial signs of awakening. All other S group specimens have been terminated as a precaution.
Last updated 7 minutes ago…
Priority Status: Initiate Destruction of Specimen S-32…
I stared at the screen, the final words of the last entry hanging in my mind. Seven minutes ago.
"Seven minutes? Did they write this log just before evacuating? Or… are they dead?" I muttered, my voice sounding wet and strange, but I barely noticed anymore. The words sat heavily in my mind as I read the logs again, trying to piece everything together.
My gaze drifted from the monitor to the room around me. The floor was a mess of shattered glass, broken machinery, and debris, but something felt... wrong. There was no one here, no bodies, no researchers scrambling to escape. Not even signs of those who had been shouting minutes earlier. For all the chaos documented in the logs and painted across the lab, the place was hauntingly empty.
And yet, the evidence of violence was everywhere.
The shattered glass near the tank I'd woken up in glinted under the flickering lights, streaked with what looked like... blood. Small splatters stained the floor nearby, some of it smeared as though someone had slipped. There were scorch marks, fragments of broken equipment still sparking faintly, and cracks running through the tiles.
I swallowed hard. The tightening sensation in my gooey form was an unpleasant reminder of what I had become.
"There should still be something left," I murmured to myself, my gaze darting around the room. My voice sounded strange, wet, like it was being filtered through a puddle. The shattered equipment, the scorch marks, the cracks in the walls and floor… But there was no sign of anyone. No bodies. No scattered clothing. Not even a shoe.
A cold dread coiled in my chest, spreading through my gooey form like ice water. "Where did they all go?" I whispered, my voice trembling. I slid closer to a large bloodstain, unable to stop myself from staring at it. The sticky red smears stood out starkly against the cold, pale tiles, glaring up at me like a warning. It wasn't enough blood for a body, at least I didn't think so. Someone had been injured here, maybe dragged away, but not killed thankfully.
The thought made me shiver, a strange ripple running through my body. My breathing quickened, and a hollow pressure built in my chest. What if whoever did this was still here? What if they came back? I was a blob of goo in a wrecked lab with no idea how to defend myself. What the hell was I supposed to do if—
Stop.
I forced myself to take a steadying breath, though it sounded more like a gurgle. Panicking wouldn't do me any good. If I freaked out now, I'd just end up lying in a bigger puddle of my own goo. I couldn't afford that. Not here.
"Get it together, Sorren," I muttered, clenching what should've been my fists. "You can't figure anything out if you're losing your shit."
The room felt quieter now, the weight of the emptiness pressing down on me. I swallowed back the knot of fear in my chest and tried to focus. Answers wouldn't come to me if I sat here panicking.
The logs mentioned M-2, which I'm assuming is Mewtwo given what I am. His escape caused the damage. That much was clear from the sheer destruction in this room. But why weren't there any bodies? Did Mewtwo take them? Did Team Rocket evacuate with them? No, that didn't make sense, not with how little time they'd had to escape. Unless… they teleported? That was a thing in this world, right?
My frustration built as the pieces refused to fit together. "Nothing makes sense anymore," I muttered, glancing back at the computer screen. The logs felt more ominous with every reread. Seven minutes ago. Whoever wrote this must have been here just before everything fell apart. If they disappeared, it must have happened fast.
I scrolled back up through the logs, my gaze landing on a description that made my breath—or whatever passed for it—catch. "Choppy brown hair. Pale skin. Approximately five-foot-nine, athletic build..." My words trailed off as a hollow weight settled in my chest. That was me. That was my body.
A small monitor? That must've been my phone… and compact computer? I didn't have my laptop with me when I got ran over?
Thankfully though, it seems like they weren't able to get into them. Especially considering all the different save-files I had stored on my laptop of all the games, and the anime I had saved on there. They would have freaked if they knew about what I did of their organisation.
I stared at the words, the room spinning slightly around me. The memories of the truck, the pain, and the void came flooding back in a rush. "I really did die," I whispered, the realization hitting me like a punch to the gut.
But that wasn't all. They… they'd used me. My DNA, my body. The logs confirmed it. They'd taken a sample from my brain—what was left of it—to create S-32. To create me, or rather, this version of me. But how? How did I remember everything? How did I still have my thoughts, my memories, if they'd only used fragments of my brain to patch up their experiment?
I stared at the monitor, trying to piece it together. The logs didn't offer any answers. Only theories. The incorporation of the brain tissue from my body had apparently done something unprecedented. Something they didn't fully understand.
"What the hell did you do to me?" I muttered, a mixture of anger and fear creeping into my voice. The answers weren't here, at least not all of them. I glanced at the logs again, at the mentions of Mewtwo, the chaos, the field specialist they'd called in for the devices. It didn't matter right now. What mattered was getting out.
"I'm not going to stick around for them to try this again," I said to myself, pushing away from the computer. The cold, hard reality was setting in. I wasn't human anymore.
I pushed myself away from the glass, my form wobbling slightly. The more I thought about it, the worse the pit in my gut felt. None of this added up.
"I need to get out of here," I whispered to myself. "Before Team Rocket comes back to clean up or someone else shows up to investigate." My mind latched onto an unsettling thought. "If I'm a Pokémon now, doesn't that mean I can be captured in a PokéBall?"
The idea sent another shiver through me, making my entire body jiggle. The thought of being stuffed into a cramped, confined space like a PokéBall sent a wave of panic through me. The thought of being stuck in a cramped space had terrified me ever since I was a child. "Not trapped in some tiny prison, and not against whatever terrifying Pokémon this world has." I muttered fiercely, the edges of my voice trembling.
I glanced down at myself, the light blue sheen of my gooey form rippling faintly under the lab's dim light. A Ditto. That's what I was. A jack of all trades. Not the strongest, I could gain the stats of a Pokémon I copied but I couldn't copy a Pokémon's experience or the way they instinctively used their moves. I could only transform and mimic.
"If I can even learn how to transform," I muttered bitterly. "I could barely crawl a few minutes ago. Clearly, I don't have the instincts a Ditto should have."
Fuck.
"What have you gotten yourself into, Sorren..." I murmured, my voice still sounding strange and wet. I stared at the shattered lab around me, dread coiling in the pit of my being.
And then, I slid forward, determined to find answers, and a way out.
Glancing back at the slightly bloodied glass and the shattered machinery around me, then toward the broken remains of the lab doors in the distance. A faint, cold draft slipped through the cracks, pulling my attention. That was my way out.
"Alright," I whispered to myself, my voice trembling slightly. "No more sitting around. Time to move."
I compressed my form, pulling myself together like I'd done before. My movements were smoother now, more deliberate. Stretch, compress, slide. It still felt weird, but it worked. I edged closer to the door, inch by inch, my confidence building with every movement.
As I reached the shattered doorway, I paused, glancing back at the ruins of the lab one last time. The broken monitors, the streaks of blood, the eerie emptiness...
Good riddance. This place was creepy as fuck.
Now, I just had to survive.
I shuffled forward, crossing the threshold of the hall.
-From Death to Ditto-
That's chapter one of the story folks! What do you think? This might seem like a rather random story but the idea got stuck in my head so I'm going to keep writing it until I've got nothing left!
And yes there is some inspiration from 'that time I got reincarnated as a slime'. It's a great story, but our Mc isn't going to be anywhere near as OP as Rimuru. He'll get stronger for sure, but he doesn't have those broken abilities that Rimuru has to make him gain strength so easily.
Anyway question time! What do you think about his awakening?