One of my ideas for a OC who goes into Pokemon world. will contain themes like nation-building.As always reviews and suggestions are welcome
It happened suddenly, peacefully even. I was just doing my favorite thing—sleeping—when I crossed over. Truck-kun, it seemed, had taken a vacation. I woke up in the body of a ducal heir in the Pokémon world. Normally, I'd be ecstatic—a dream come true. But there was a tiny problem. A very tiny problem. You see, this Pokémon world wasn't set in the age of Ash Ketchum or even Professor Oak. No, this was eons before, when humans and Pokémon were locked in a brutal, unending war. Coexistence wasn't even a word in their vocabulary. It was an era of blood, mistrust, and survival.
Humans killed Pokémon, drove them from their nests, cracked their eggs, and in return, Pokémon retaliated with fury. Yet, despite their overwhelming power, they showed restraint, killing only those who directly threatened them. It was almost… merciful. These so-called "cute" creatures possessed the heart of a child—capable of annihilation but choosing restraint instead.
Now, I was born a ducal heir. I harbored the naive fantasy of being the chosen one, the one who would show people that coexistence was possible. But perhaps I thought too highly of myself. The mistrust of Pokémon was absolute, and technological development was akin to Caesar's conquest of Gaul. People didn't have enough to eat, and with frequent wars against Pokémon, blood was shed too often. They weren't even willing to try. My ducal house was located in what would eventually be known as the Kalos region. Picture Picardy in France during Roman times, a century after Caesar's conquest. Now, imagine the heir of that house trying to convince everyone to live alongside "strange beasts." I was treated like a fool. Looking back, it's a blessing I was the only heir and my parents loved each other. Otherwise, my succession would've been at risk.
I was nine when it happened. On a hunting trip with my parents, I stumbled upon a newly hatched, injured Espurr—barely clinging to life. My father wanted to kill it, but I practically started a brawl, begging to keep it. A full day of arguments later, my father's paternal love won out. He acquiesced, allowing me to keep the Espurr. That's when the rumors started. Whispers of the "foolish heir" who harbored dangerous fantasies about living with beasts.
It wasn't comfortable, but by the year's end, at least people in the castle stopped trying to secretly kill my Espurr to "correct" my path. Nearly nine years had passed since then, and I was now nineteen. I don't know about other places, but in our ducal territory, people had stopped killing Pokémon eggs. In return, beast tides had significantly decreased. People still called me a fool, but their attitude had shifted from outright hostility to indifference: You ignore me, I ignore you. Even those in high positions within our house held similar views.
Now, campaigns to destroy Pokémon eggs were no longer seen as acts of valor but as the stupidity of provoking the beasts. Honestly, looking back, I was such a naive protagonist, thinking I could convince the entire world to live in harmony with Pokémon, creating the coexistence we saw in games and animation. A faint smile tugged at my lips.
I thought I'd forgotten such dreams, but it seemed they still lingered. The reason I was brooding now was a necklace in my hand. I'm fairly certain I met Arceus. I don't remember, but my intuition insists I did. Maybe he wanted to see the fool who harbored these dreams. I might've voiced my frustration—"People here don't even try to form a shallow bond."—or maybe not. I was just shooting in the dark.
That morning, I woke to find an exquisitely beautiful necklace around my neck. I don't know how it got there, but I instinctively felt it allowed me to connect with an alternate world—a world I could visit or from which I could bring people. I wouldn't just abandon this world after spending the last nineteen years here. And if people came here, would the conflict extend to encompass another parallel Earth?
Then, a thought sparked. What if I made the connection into a game? After all, even I had been influenced to see these "adorable hellions" as companions through games. I could make my world a virtual reality and claim these players were "legions from God's embrace."
The more I thought, the more feasible it seemed. I could cut the connection if things spiraled out of control, claiming the game's closure, saying my power had been lost and that I could no longer summon the legions. This would give us an out if things went sideways. And these "legions" having Pokémon might finally push people here to try forming a bond with them.
My first impulse was to call people from my Earth, but I paused. Given the current wars, would they even help? And wouldn't it spark conspiracy theories about how Pokémon were so similar to those in animations? They might have their own ambitions, and since we'd be from the same world, it'd be difficult for me to maintain control. I could pretend to be a native here, but there are plenty of smart people.
So, second thought: I'd choose an Earth where virtual reality games were commonplace but hyper-realistic ones didn't yet exist. This would give me a unique advantage in promoting my game there, ensuring a seller's market. And since we weren't from the same world, it wouldn't pain me even if I schemed against them later. They might see through me, but our worlds were different enough that reincarnation conspiracy theories wouldn't start flying.
I didn't pore over each world carefully. I simply tagged them: [NOT MY EARTH] [VIRTUAL REALITY GAMES BUT NO HYPERREALISTIC] [NO GODS] and was met with clusters of dots—each referencing a different Earth. I called to Lumi, my Meowstic, "Pick a dot." Lumi pointed to a single dot (she didn't personally pick it; I showed her a projection through the necklace). After all, Pokémon had to form bonds based on intuition.
I initiated the connection. The necklace broke in half—one part vanished, the other sinking into my chest. Good, I was worried about losing it. I'd only one shot. Hopefully, it was the right choice.
The world I connected to had no nations, just a giant federation. Conflicts were rare, violence even rarer—street fights becoming world news. Most material needs were met; AI took care of everything from food to medicine. Humans had no aim, spending their time without purpose, mostly in VR games—more like a time killer. Curiously, there were no Pokémon animations or games in this world.
As the connection formed, I asked my parents for management rights of a village, "for practice." It was good to have full control, just in case. Meanwhile, on the other Earth, I used the necklace's power to hack their internet and push out a promotional video. Lacking a camera, I used parts of my own life, the necklace converting memories into videos. I cut a thirty-second promo, showcasing the conflict between humans and Pokémon, and some moments I cherished with Lumi, giving viewers a rough idea of their goal in the game.
Streamer Reaction: "PixelQueen"
(Gaming Influencer)
PixelQueen was wrapping up her latest stream, her voice hoarse from hours of commentary and her chat buzzing with the usual post-game chatter. She was about to sign off when a notification popped up on her screen: "Full VR Game Trailer Drops—Is This the Future of Gaming?"
"Full VR?" she muttered, raising an eyebrow. "Like, actual full VR? Not another scam, right?"
Curiosity got the better of her. She clicked the link, and the trailer began to play. The opening shot was a sweeping panorama of a war-torn landscape—burning villages, humans in armor clashing with towering Pokémon, and the sky painted in hues of orange and red. The visuals were… breathtaking. Hyper-realistic.
"Whoa," she said, leaning closer to her monitor. Her chat exploded with messages.
Chat:
"Is this real?!"
"No way this isn't CGI."
"Queen, you gotta try this!"
"This looks insane!"
PixelQueen ignored the chat for a moment, her eyes glued to the screen. The trailer shifted to a serene scene: a young man—presumably the protagonist—sitting in a sunlit meadow, a Meowstic curled up in his lap. The Pokémon nuzzled against him, its ears flicking lazily, its fur shimmering in the sunlight. The detail was incredible. She could almost feel the warmth of the sun, the softness of the Meowstic's fur.
"Okay, okay, hold up," she said, pausing the video. "This looks insane. Like, next-level insane. But… full VR? No way this is real. Right?"
She glanced at her chat, which was now a blur of excitement and skepticism.
Chat:
"It's gotta be fake."
"But what if it's not?"
"Queen, you gotta sign up!"
PixelQueen bit her lip, torn between excitement and doubt. She'd been burned before by overhyped games that promised the moon and delivered a rock. But this… this felt different.
"Alright, fine," she said, clicking the sign-up link. "If this is legit, I'm all in. But if it's another scam, I'm roasting whoever made this so hard."
As the trailer ended, she sat back in her chair, her mind racing. Could this really be the future of gaming? Or was it just another pipe dream?
Skeptic: "TechBro42"
(Tech Forum User)
TechBro42 scrolled through the forum thread titled "New 'Full VR' Game Trailer—Real or Fake?" with a scoff. The trailer had gone viral overnight, and the hype was unbearable. He clicked on the video, fully prepared to debunk it.
The opening scene was impressive, he'd give them that. The textures, the lighting, the physics—it all looked too good. "Probably pre-rendered," he muttered, typing out a comment. "This is obviously CGI. No way this is real-time VR. The hardware doesn't exist yet."
But as the trailer continued, showing gameplay snippets—humans and Pokémon interacting, battles, even what looked like emotions on the Pokémon's faces—he paused. "Okay, that's… weirdly detailed."
He rewound the clip of the Meowstic nuzzling its trainer. The fur moved naturally, the eyes sparkled with life. "This can't be real. Can it?"
He opened a new tab, searching for the company behind the trailer. Nothing. No website, no developer info, just a vague tagline: "Legions from God's Embrace."
"Sketchy," he muttered. "But… what if it's not?"
He leaned back in his chair, his mind racing. If this was real, it would revolutionize gaming—no, everything. Education, medicine, entertainment… the possibilities were endless. But if it was fake, it was the most elaborate scam he'd ever seen.
He clicked the sign-up link, his skepticism warring with a tiny spark of hope. "Alright," he said to himself. "Let's see what this is all about."
Curious Onlooker: "LunaDreams"
(Casual Gamer)
LunaDreams wasn't much of a gamer, but the trailer caught her eye as she scrolled through her feed. The thumbnail showed a glowing necklace and a mysterious figure standing in a field of flowers. She clicked, half-expecting another ad for a mobile game.
What she got was… something else entirely.
The trailer opened with a voiceover, deep and resonant: "In a world where humans and beasts are locked in eternal conflict, one dreamer dares to imagine a different future." The visuals were stunning—lush forests, towering mountains, and creatures that looked like they'd stepped out of a fantasy novel. But it was the bond between the human and the Pokémon that hooked her.
"Oh my god," she whispered as the Meowstic curled up in the trainer's lap, purring softly. "It's so… cute."
By the end of the trailer, she was already searching for how to sign up. The tagline flashed on the screen: "Step into a world where every choice matters. Are you ready to become a Legion of God's Embrace?"
"Yes," she said aloud, clicking the link. "Yes, I am."
As she filled out the registration form, her mind wandered. What would it be like to step into that world? To bond with a Pokémon, to explore those landscapes, to make a difference? It sounded like a dream come true.
She clicked submit, her heart racing with anticipation. "I can't wait," she murmured.
Streamer Reaction: "SkepticalSteve"
(Debunker/Streamer)
SkepticalSteve's entire brand was built on calling out scams, and this "full VR" trailer was practically begging for a takedown. He loaded the video on stream, his chat already buzzing with anticipation.
"Alright, folks," he said, cracking his knuckles. "Let's see how many red flags we can count."
The trailer played, and Steve's smug expression slowly faded. The visuals were… flawless. The physics, the lighting, the emotions—it all looked too real.
"Okay, hold up," he said, pausing the video. "This is either the most advanced tech ever created, or the most elaborate scam in history. My money's on the latter."
But even as he said it, doubt crept in. The trailer showed gameplay footage—humans and Pokémon battling, exploring, even talking. It was seamless.
"Alright, fine," he said, sighing. "I'll bite. If this is real, I'll eat my hat. If it's fake, I'm exposing whoever made this."
He clicked the sign-up link, his chat exploding with excitement.
Chat:
"Steve's gonna eat his hat!"
"This is gonna be good."
"What if it's real though?"
Steve ignored the chat, his mind racing. If this was real, it would change everything. But if it was fake… well, he'd have a field day tearing it apart.
Casual Viewer: "MomOfTwo"
(Facebook User)
MomOfTwo was scrolling through Facebook when the trailer popped up. She almost swiped past it, but the thumbnail caught her eye—a glowing necklace and a field of flowers. She clicked, expecting a feel-good ad.
What she got was… unexpected.
The trailer showed a world of conflict and beauty, humans and Pokémon struggling to coexist. But it was the bond between the young man and his Meowstic that made her pause. The way they looked at each other, the trust, the affection—it reminded her of her kids.
"Wow," she murmured, wiping a tear from her eye. "That's… beautiful."
By the end of the trailer, she was sharing it with her friends. "You have to see this," she typed. "It's like nothing I've ever seen before."
As she clicked the sign-up link, she felt a spark of excitement. What would it be like to step into that world? To bond with a Pokémon, to explore those landscapes, to make a difference? It sounded like a dream come true.
"I can't wait," she murmured.
How was the start guys?