A/N: Guys please get me few more 5-Star Reviews just enough that this fan fic can be rated atleast for now. Also I plan on skimming through playthrough of games from now on. While I may simplify it i will be sure to include it time to time but no more detailed gameplay anymore. Tell me your thoughts about it.
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After we packed our things, the morning air was crisp and cool, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth. Brock, ever efficient, had already doused the campfire, leaving only a faint wisp of smoke.
I recalled my Pokémon back into their Poké Balls, the familiar light show a comforting presence in the early light. I had a lot planned for today, and every minute counted.
While we walked, the path ahead winding through the still-sleepy forest, we chatted. The conversation flowed easily, a natural rhythm settling between us.
Ash, as usual, was the most talkative, his enthusiasm infectious even at this early hour.
"So, how'd you get your Pikachu, Ash?" I asked, genuinely curious about the canonical starting point.
I knew the story, of course, but hearing it from him, with all his youthful energy, was different. It added a layer of authenticity to this bizarre reality.
Ash immediately launched into the tale, his voice brimming with pride.
"Oh, man, it was awesome! Professor Oak gave him to me! At first, Pikachu didn't like me at all, kept zapping me and everything. But then we got caught in a storm, and I tried to protect him, and then..." He trailed off, grinning at his partner.
Pikachu, perched on Ash's shoulder, chirped happily, nuzzling his cheek. It was clear their bond was strong, a testament to their shared adventures.
Misty rolled her eyes, but a small, fond smile played on her lips. "He was a real handful, alright," she chimed in.
I asked a bit about Oak, trying to gauge how much Ash actually knew about the legendary professor.
Ash explained he's a Pokémon professor with a huge research area and a love for Pokémon—nothing too detailed, just what you'd expect from a 10-year-old kid. "He's super smart!" Ash declared. "And he has tons of Pokémon at his lab!"
Brock, walking beside me, added, "Professor Oak is truly a pioneer in Pokémon research. His work on Pokémon habitats and behaviors is unparalleled."
He spoke with a respectful tone, a stark contrast to Ash's more simplistic admiration. It was clear Brock held Oak in high regard.
As we got closer to Mt. Moon, the landscape began to change. The trees thinned, giving way to more rocky outcrops and sparse vegetation.
The air grew cooler, carrying a faint, earthy scent. The mountain itself loomed ahead, a massive, dark silhouette against the brightening sky, its peaks jagged and imposing.
Suddenly, a loud, piercing scream echoed through the area, cutting through the peaceful morning.
It was a sound of pure terror, followed by frantic flapping noises. My head snapped up, my senses on high alert. Ash and Misty gasped, their faces paling.
"What was that?!" Ash yelled, already starting to run towards the sound. Pikachu looked startled, its ears twitching. Misty, despite her initial fear, followed close behind, her expression now one of concern. Brock, ever calm, was right on their heels.
We ran toward the sound, pushing through thorny bushes and scrambling over loose rocks. The screams grew louder, more desperate. It sounded like someone was in serious trouble, being overwhelmed by something small and numerous.
And there he was: some guy with glasses, flailing wildly, his arms wrapped around his head, being attacked by a bunch of Zubat.
They swarmed him like a dark, chittering cloud, their tiny fangs flashing. He was clearly terrified, completely outmatched by the sheer numbers.
"Help! Get away from me, you winged terrors!" he shrieked, stumbling backward. His glasses were askew, and his hair was a mess. It was a truly pathetic sight, almost comical if not for the genuine distress.
I sent out Combusken, a flash of red and orange as she materialized.
"Combusken, Flamethrower! Scatter them!" I commanded, my voice sharp and clear. There was no time to waste.
Combusken responded instantly, a torrent of searing flames erupting from her beak.
The Flamethrower swept through the swarm of Zubat, not hitting them directly, but creating a wall of heat and light that sent them screeching and scattering in every direction. They hated the light, and fire was definitely light.
The Zubat shrieked, their high-pitched cries filling the air as they dispersed, flapping wildly away into the shadows of the nearby trees.
The man, now free from their assault, collapsed onto the ground, panting heavily, his eyes wide with relief.
I also saw Brock casually catch one. Amidst the chaos, as the Zubat fled, Brock, with a practiced flick of his wrist, threw a Poké Ball.
It connected with one of the fleeing Zubat, engulfing it in a flash of red light. A moment later, the ball clicked shut. He didn't even break stride.
Whatever. I didn't care. It was just a Zubat. My mind was already moving on, assessing the situation and the peculiar man on the ground. Brock's casual capture was just another reminder of how differently people operated in this world.
Ash moved first, always the hero. He rushed over and helped the guy up, his face filled with concern.
"Are you okay, sir?" he asked, offering a hand. The man, still trembling, gratefully accepted it.
The man introduced himself as Seymour, a scientist. He was a lanky fellow, with perpetually bewildered eyes behind thick glasses.
"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" he gushed, adjusting his spectacles. "You saved me! You truly are heroes!"
He thanked us about twenty times too many—it got annoying real fast. His gratitude stretched on, each word a tiny, irritating pinprick.
"I don't know how I can ever repay you! Those dreadful creatures! My research! Oh, my stars, thank you, thank you, thank you!" He even tried to bow, almost losing his balance.
I mean it was more easy with saving him then this annoying multiple times thank you. I just wanted him to stop talking.
Misty looked equally exasperated, while Ash, bless his innocent heart, just kept nodding politely. Brock, however, seemed to find it mildly amusing.
Apparently, he was researching the Moon Stone and Clefairy. He launched into a rambling explanation about the unique properties of the Moon Stone and its connection to the Clefairy population within Mt. Moon. He spoke with the rapid-fire intensity of someone obsessed with their subject.
Some group was trying to take the stone, so they installed lights inside the tunnels to get better access for their search.
"They're disrupting the natural ecosystem!" Seymour wailed, gesturing wildly. "The Clefairy rely on the Moon Stone's energy, and the Zubat... oh, the poor Zubat!"
The Zubat, who hated the light, attacked him. As a side effect of the lights making them annoyed and stressed, and he just happened to be the first thing they found after they got out of the tunnel, so they bullied him.
Made sense. Though i believe they were bullying him because he is annoying. They were just reacting to an unnatural intrusion, and Seymour was an unfortunate victim of their collective frustration.
"The poor things are just agitated!" Seymour explained, wringing his hands. "They're nocturnal creatures, you see, and the constant glare... it's unbearable for them! I was just trying to observe their migration patterns, and then... whoosh! A cloud of angry bats!"
We decided to help him. It was the obvious next step in the plot, and honestly, anything to get him to stop thanking us.
"Alright, Seymour," I said, cutting him off gently. "We'll help you. Lead the way." Ash and Brock nodded in agreement, and even Misty seemed eager to move on.
The tunnels were surprisingly bright. Seymour had been right; crude, industrial lights hung from the ceiling, casting a harsh, artificial glow on the rough-hewn walls.
It felt less like a natural cave and more like an unfinished construction site.
You could even see mining marks on the walls, fresh gouges in the rock where heavy machinery had scraped away at the stone.
It was clear someone was aggressively trying to extract something from this mountain, and it wasn't just for scientific research.
Not long after entering, the air grew colder, and the faint sound of dripping water echoed through the passages. Suddenly, a familiar, obnoxious laugh echoed through the tunnel ahead. We all froze.
And then, they appeared. Team Rocket. They materialized from around a bend, striking their signature poses, a spotlight (where did they even get a spotlight in a cave?) illuminating their ridiculous figures. Jessie, James, and Meowth.
"Prepare for trouble, from the shadows we rise!" Jessie declared, her arm outstretched dramatically.
"And make it double, before your very eyes!" James added, striking a heroic pose.
"To protect the world from devastation!"
"To unite all peoples within our nation!"
"To denounce the evils of truth and love!"
"To extend our reach to the stars above!"
"Jessie!"
"James!"
"Team Rocket blasts off at the speed of light!"
"Surrender now, or prepare for a fight!"
"Meowth! That's right!" Meowth finished, striking a pose of his own.
I swear, I was this close to throwing a Master Ball at Meowth. A talking Meowth? That's basically a living Pokémon translator.
The implications were mind-boggling. Imagine the possibilities, the diplomatic advantages, the sheer convenience of understanding Pokemons.
Weak in battle, sure—he was a joke in the anime, always getting blasted off—but the potential translator?
Huge. He was a walking, talking Rosetta Stone for Pokémon. His combat ability was irrelevant compared to his linguistic talents.
But I held myself back. Catching him now would mess up the story too much. Some rare Pokémon only show up through canon events, and I can't mess with those yet.
The butterfly effect was a real concern here; one wrong move could derail everything. I needed to let the plot unfold naturally, for now.
So I watched in silence as they did their usual dramatic intro, a theatrical performance that felt utterly out of place in a dark cave.
Ash, Misty, and Brock, however, seemed completely unfazed, as if this was a perfectly normal occurrence. Seymour, on the other hand, looked utterly bewildered.
"Team Rocket!" Ash yelled, his fists clenched. "What are you doing here?!"
Jessie sneered. "Why, twerp, we're here for the Moon Stone, of course! And any rare Pokémon that might be lurking about!"
James added, "And perhaps a certain exceptional Pikachu, if you'd be so kind as to hand it over!"
They really are like NPCs from the game. Their dialogue was so predictable, their motives so transparent.
It was almost comforting in its familiarity, a small island of normalcy in this sea of the extraordinary. They were the relief, the recurring villains who never truly won.
Ash sent out Pikachu. "Pikachu, Thunderbolt!" he commanded, his voice ringing with determination. Pikachu, ever loyal, immediately unleashed a powerful bolt of electricity.
One Thunderbolt later, boom—they were gone. The electric attack hit their flimsy mechanical contraption (a giant vacuum cleaner, naturally) with a blinding flash.
The machine sparked, groaned, and then exploded in a puff of smoke and glittering stars. Classic.
And I swear I don't know how that thunderbolt exploded maybe explosives for mines were near?
It was a cartoonishly large explosion for a single electric attack, even from Pikachu. Perhaps Team Rocket had rigged their contraption with some unstable mining explosives, or maybe the world just enjoyed a good dramatic exit. Either way, they were gone.
"Looks like Team Rocket's blasting off again!" Ash cheered, a triumphant grin on his face.
Misty sighed. "Finally. They're so annoying." Brock just shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. Seymour, however, was still wide-eyed with shock.
Afterward, we continued deeper into the tunnels, following Seymour, who was now muttering about the "disruption" and the "poor Clefairy." The path twisted and turned, a labyrinth of damp rock and artificial light.
We stumbled on a Clefairy. It was small and pink, its large eyes wide with fear as it scurried past us. Seymour gasped. "A Clefairy! They're so shy!"
We followed it through a mess of tunnels, up and down all sorts of weird paths. The Clefairy seemed to know exactly where it was going, darting through narrow crevices and scaling small ledges with surprising agility.
We, on the other hand, stumbled, scraped our knees, and occasionally got turned around.
"Are you sure this is the way, Seymour?" Misty grumbled, wiping a smudge of dirt from her cheek. "This Clefairy seems to be leading us on a wild goose chase!"
"It knows! It must!" Seymour insisted, his eyes fixed on the retreating pink form. "They are drawn to the Moon Stone!"
Until we reached the big chamber. It was a vast, cavernous space, far larger than any of the tunnels we'd traversed. The ceiling soared high above us with a big hole, and the air hummed with a strange, ethereal energy.
There it was—a huge Moon Stone, with Clefairies dancing around it. The stone pulsed with a soft, silvery light, illuminating the chamber in an otherworldly glow.
Dozens of Clefairies, their pink forms shimmering, moved in a graceful, synchronized dance, their movements fluid and mesmerizing. Their soft, melodic chirps filled the air, a beautiful, haunting chorus.
Perfect. This was exactly what I needed. The Moon Stone, untouched, radiating its unique energy.
The Clefairies, gathered in their sacred ritual. It was a scene straight out of a documentary, a moment of pure, unadulterated Pokémon magic.
I opened my system and launched Pokémon Emerald. Since no one else could see it, I left it running, the interface a translucent overlay only visible to me. The familiar game world loaded, the digital Moon Stone glowing on the screen.
Suddenly, a loud WHOOSH filled the room, followed by a thick, acrid smoke that billowed from a newly opened hole in the ceiling.
The Clefairies shrieked, their dancing abruptly stopping, and scattered in panic. Ash, Misty, Brock, and Seymour all started coughing, their eyes watering.
"What's happening?!" Ash yelled, waving his arms to clear the smoke.
"It's Team Rocket!" Misty coughed, pointing upwards.
"Blast it all!" Seymour choked, stumbling backward.
While everyone panicked, I used the chaos to sneak up, touch the Moon Stone, and save it (and all the little moon stones nearby) to my in-game bag.
My movements were swift, silent, and precise. My hand brushed against the cool, smooth surface of the massive stone, and a faint hum resonated through my palm.
The system registered the transfer instantly. A small icon of the Moon Stone appeared in my inventory, followed by several smaller ones.
Then I slipped back into the group, pretending to cough and wave away the smoke like everyone else, my heart thumping with a mixture of adrenaline and triumph.
Team Rocket did their second intro of the day. As the smoke slowly cleared, revealing a large, mechanical digging machine descending from the ceiling, Jessie and James appeared on top of it, striking yet another pose.
"Prepare for trouble, we're back for more!"
"And make it double, right through the floor!"
"We've returned for the Moon Stone, twerps!" Jessie cackled, her voice echoing.
"With our brand new, super-duper Moon-Muncher!" James added, patting the side of the machine.
They even revealed how they planned to steal the stone with a digging machine as Jessie pressed some button and we heard a loud noise.
The machine whirred to life, its massive drill bit beginning to spin ominously, aimed directly at where the Moon Stone had been moments before.
"Now, Moon-Muncher, get us that shiny rock!" Jessie shrieked, pressing a large red button. The drill roared, grinding against the rock.
But when the smoke cleared—thanks to Ash's Pidgeotto, who had used Gust to fan it away—the Moon Stone was gone.
Just a big hole in the ground where it used to be, a gaping maw in the center of the chamber. The Clefairies, who had been hiding, slowly emerged, their eyes wide with confusion.
Everyone stared at Team Rocket, blaming them. Ash's jaw dropped. Misty's eyes widened. Brock's stoic expression cracked into one of pure disbelief. Seymour let out a strangled cry.
"You fools! You destroyed it!" Ash roared, pointing an accusing finger.
"Our precious Moon Stone!" Seymour wailed, collapsing to his knees.
Misty glared. "You really messed up this time, Team Rocket!"
Jessie grabbed James by the collar, shaking him furiously.
"James, you idiot! What did you do?!" she shrieked, her face contorted in rage. He looked totally confused, his eyes darting between the empty hole and his enraged partner.
"Me? I just pressed the button!" James stammered, his voice high with panic. "I thought it was supposed to take the stone, not make it vanish!"
Meowth yelled at him for messing up. "You blithering moron! You broke the boss's new toy and didn't even get the loot!" He smacked James on the head with a tiny paw.
I quietly apologized to James in my head. He really was just a hapless pawn in this whole ridiculous charade.
He meant well, in his own misguided way. It was almost sad, their perpetual failure.
Ash had had enough. His face was red with anger, his patience completely worn thin. "That's it! Pikachu, Thunderbolt! Again!" he roared, pointing at Team Rocket.
Pikachu, equally enraged by the perceived destruction of the Moon Stone, unleashed a massive, crackling Thunderbolt.
It struck Team Rocket's machine with incredible force, causing it to spark and shudder violently.
Blowing their hot air balloon. The machine, already unstable, began to glow ominously. A moment later, with a final, spectacular BOOM, it exploded, sending Jessie, James, and Meowth soaring upwards.
Another Thunderbolt later, they blasted off again. Their signature "We're blasting off again!" echoed through the chamber as they disappeared through the big hole in the ceiling, a tiny twinkling star in the distance. The chamber fell silent, save for the whimpering of the Clefairies.
The Clefairies were heartbroken. Some were crying, their soft, melodic chirps now mournful wails. They huddled together, their eyes fixed on the empty space where their sacred stone had once been. It was a genuinely sad sight, even for me.
I walked over to the big one—the leader, I guess—and sat beside it. It was slightly larger than the others, its gaze filled with a deep sorrow. I gently patted its head, a gesture of comfort.
"Maybe it's for the best," I said softly, my voice quiet but firm. The Clefairy looked up at me, its large eyes blinking.
"You were probably gonna spend years dancing around a rock that glows sometimes. Why not do something else with your life?"
They stared at me, a mixture of confusion and a faint spark of curiosity in their eyes. The leader Clefairy tilted its head, as if considering my words. The other Clefairies slowly gathered around, listening intently.
"There's this professor of a friend of mine. He loves Pokémon. He's got this huge ranch, tons of space, and he takes care of all kinds of Pokémon. You could live out in the open and actually enjoy life, explore new things, meet new friends."
I painted a picture of freedom and joy, a life beyond the confines of a dark cave and a single, static stone.
I could see them thinking about it. Their ears twitched, and they exchanged glances.
The leader Clefairy looked at me, then at its fellow Clefairies, a silent conversation passing between them.
They seemed to be weighing the options, the known sadness of their current situation against the unknown promise of a new life.
So I decided to pull out my trump card. The ultimate incentive, the one thing that transcends all other considerations for a Pokémon. I leaned in conspiratorially, lowering my voice slightly.
"Also," I added, "he'll feed you delicious food. Every day."
Boom. Their eyes lit up. It was like flipping a switch. The sadness vanished, replaced by an almost comical eagerness.
Their large eyes, previously filled with tears, now shone with pure, unadulterated delight.
Looking at me with beaming eyes. Like saying "Really? We can get delicious food everyday?"
Their chirps turned into excited squeals, and they started hopping up and down. It was a truly hilarious transformation, a testament to the power of a good meal.
That sealed the deal. The promise of endless, delicious food was apparently far more enticing than a glowing rock and a lifetime of dancing.
Who knew Pokémon were such gourmands? It was a simple, yet profoundly effective, negotiation tactic.
I took out a few spare Poké Balls I had taken with me just in case for this plan. They were standard red and white Poké Balls, nothing fancy, but they represented a new beginning for them. I held them out, invitingly.
One by one, they all willingly got inside. There was no struggle, no resistance.
They simply touched the Poké Balls, and with a flash of red light, they were gone, safely contained, ready for their new lives. The leader Clefairy was the last, giving me a final, grateful nod before entering its ball.
Ash, Misty, Brock, even Seymour were just standing there, stunned. Mouths open. Eyes wide.
They had witnessed the entire, bizarre exchange, from my philosophical advice to the irresistible offer of food, and they clearly had no idea how to process it.
"Did... did you just convince a whole colony of Clefairy to go with you because of food?" Misty finally managed to stammer, her voice laced with disbelief.
Ash just stared, his mouth still agape. "Wow! That's amazing! How did you do that?!"
Brock, for once, was speechless, his usual composure completely gone. Seymour just kept blinking, his glasses askew.
"What?" I shrugged, feigning innocence, a slight, knowing smile playing on my lips.
"They seemed like they needed a change of scenery. And a good meal." I tucked the Poké Balls containing the Clefairies safely into my bag.
With the last Clefairy caught, I said, "Alright. I'm done with this tunnel mess. Let's get out of here."
The air still smelled faintly of smoke and damp rock, and I was more than ready to see the sun again.
By the time we made it out of Mt. Moon, the sun was already up, high in the sky. The journey out was just as confusing as the journey in, if not more so.
We stumbled through dark passages, occasionally hitting dead ends, and had to backtrack multiple times.
Let me warn you—the paths in the real world are nothing like in the game or anime. Way more confusing.
There were no clear markers, no helpful arrows, just endless, winding rock. It was a true labyrinth, and my internal GPS was completely useless.
I just got out of it and I can promise I forgot everything about the way we got out. It was a blur of turns, descents, and ascents.
I was just following Brock's surprisingly good sense of direction, and occasionally, Ash's random guesses that somehow sometimes worked.
But now Mt. Moon had no Moon Stone, no Clefairies, and nothing worth stealing.
Which meant it wouldn't be targeted again. The source of conflict was gone, the sacred ritual moved to a safer, more abundant location.
I'd saved Mt. Moon. Saved the Clefairies. Saved the Moon Stone. All in a day's work. It was a pretty good haul, if I did say so myself. Not bad for a morning's adventure.
We said goodbye to Seymour, who, after recovering from his shock, thanked us profusely, though thankfully in a more subdued manner this time.
He promised to dedicate his research to finding a new, peaceful habitat for the Zubat.
"Thank you, truly, from the bottom of my heart!" he said, bowing deeply.
"You've not only saved the Moon Stone but given the Clefairy a new lease on life!" He looked genuinely relieved, and a little less stressed.
And then, we continued our journey toward Cerulean City. The road stretched out before us, bathed in the warm light of the late morning sun.
The air felt lighter, the mood more cheerful. Mt. Moon, now behind us, was just another memory, another adventure conquered.