So there he was, lying on his belly in a body of shallow water, feeling the current drag at his clothes and fur. Thankfully, the water was shallow enough that his nose, at the tip of his blunt Oshawott muzzle, was in no danger of being submerged. That would have made for a rude awakening otherwise. He hauled himself to his feet, looked around at the impenetrable wall of greenery on either side of himself, then up at the clear blue sky. He pulled down the brim of his brown fedora a bit, to shield his eyes from the blazing sun. This was all very familiar.
That’s right, the last time he’d been in a situation like this, he’d fallen from the sky directly into Serenity River. The Mystery Dungeon had probably saved his life, as when he’d hit the ground he’d simply been ejected, unconscious, out of the dungeon, rather than killed on impact. His name was Archie, he was an Oshawott, though he had been human once. His memories of that time were still hazy, and what he had remembered he’d much rather have remained forgotten. As he stood, he shook water from his fur and tried to wring some of the dampness out of his off beige coat. His Wonder Bag was gone. Likewise, the badge he kept pinned to his lapel was nowhere to be found. He noted with some satisfaction that he hadn’t lost his scalchop in… Whatever mess had brought him to this place. Distressingly, however, his partner was nowhere to be seen.
The grass rustled around him, the sunlight faded from the sky. Another dream of the end of the world?
You are not dreaming!
“Who’s there!?”
The grass flattened suddenly. Or at least, that was the best way Archie could think to describe its sudden disappearance. The river ahead of him suddenly terminated in a plaza of raised brown stones. No, it was a beach, no, the river continued on into a shallow pond. Each time it changed, another spoke radiated out from it, and with each spoke, another person appeared.
The very first, an honest to Arceus human being! He hadn’t seen one of those since… Well, since before Serenity River. She was speaking Galarian, with the accent of one native to that island. It felt so strange to be hearing actual human speech again. She was talking to, well, the best he could describe was that it was a cloud of some sort, a sunbeam shining through dust. The cloud was speaking, in fact, it was the source of the voice he’d just heard. Something about them all being summoned from their worlds, to answer some call for assistance, and then once it was all over, they’d all go home as if nothing had ever happened, without any memory if all this happening. It honestly sounded too neat to be perfectly believable.
The next to speak up was a Mismagius, speaking in the seemingly universal tongue of all Pokemon. Actually, come to think of it, was it strange he could understand the human? Sure, he’d been one, and his native Unova spoke the same language as Galar, but, compared to listening to the Mismagius, the way the human was speaking felt… Unnatural somehow.
"Souls can always understand each other here, but once you arrive, I will translate for you. You will understand and be understood by any sapient being that uses language, including each other. Very convenient!"
Next to speak, another human. She spoke was an accent suggesting Kantoese. Was she speaking that language, or Galarian? Did it matter? He could understand either way, just like the cloud said. The first human spoke again, but now, she wasn’t human? It was like the Oshawott had blinked, and just like that, an Alolan Meowth was standing in her place. She seemed as surprised about it as he was. Apparently, this cloud thing was in the process of remaking them as they spoke.
The people were starting to come more quickly now. Another human, followed up by a strange, half fish-half dinosaur Pokemon he’d never seen before. Another, feline Pokemon he couldn’t quite place, with what appeared to be a cybernetic arm. A Treecko – Spens!? No, a female, who spoke in cold, practical terms, very much unlike the Oshawott’s warm and friendly partner. Something about the shade looming behind her made his heart race. He had to look away from her before he started hyperventilating.
Archie wasn’t the only one having trouble finding his breath. The next to speak, another creature he couldn’t quite recognize, gave out a shuttering cough, apparently struggling with the helmet that appeared bolted closed around its head. More and more spoke up, by now the cross talk was starting to get overwhelming. The Oshawott stepped back a bit, away from the major concentration of the crowd. He cupped his elbow with his paw, then lifted the other paw to his muzzle. And he watched, and thought, as Pokemon shrank and unevolved, as humans changed before his eyes.
And then he came back to the helmeted creature, struggling with the heavy looking thing just as much, if not more, than he was struggling for breath.
“Hey, listen buddy, you’re not doing yourself any favors,” he said, adopting his best soothing tone of voice. He wasn’t the only one who’d taken an interest in the creature, as the Treecko was also speaking to him – though, Archie was doing his best to studiously avoid looking her way, for fear of whatever it was hovering behind her sending him into his own fit, and immediately invalidating what he was about to say next. “Try to breathe slowly and deeply, and don’t thrash around so much. If you keep going on like that, you’re going to make yourself pass out.”
Could a soul pass out? Was that a thing that could happen? He was probably sounding like an idiot. Oh well, too late to take the words back now.
