CHAPTER 1: A VOW BENEATH THE MOONLIGHT
The moon hung heavy in the sky, a pale and distant guardian above an endless ocean.
Its light spilled across the restless waves, silver ribbons stretching and breaking apart each time the water rolled. The night was silent except for the hiss of the tide, pulling and returning like the steady breathing of a giant.
Here, far from civilization, a single island rose out of the sea.
It was not large—hardly more than a speck compared to the horizon—but it was dense, cloaked in a wild forest whose tangled canopy made it seem darker than the surrounding night. The island felt ancient, like a secret forgotten by the world, a shard of land no one was meant to find.
On the shore, beneath the pale moonlight, sat a boy.
His figure was small, hunched slightly forward as though burdened by an invisible weight. His shirt clung to him in loose folds, torn in half a dozen places. The fabric was so thin that the outline of each rib pressed against it. His legs, crossed loosely beneath him, looked more like sticks than limbs.
Jayden Cross was alive.
Alive, though he shouldn't be.
The salt-heavy wind tugged at his ragged clothes. His dark hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, though the night was cool. He did not move for a long while. His chest rose and fell, steady but shallow, each breath carrying a tremor of disbelief.
His eyes—sharp despite the hollowness in his face—were locked on a bird's nest half-buried in the sand a few feet away.
Beside him crouched a small creature, half the height of a child.
Its feathers were so black they seemed to drink the moonlight, absorbing it rather than reflecting it. Its outline blurred at the edges, as if the shadows themselves clung to its body. The only color on it came from its eyes—deep crimson, sharp and wary, watching Jayden as though trying to understand him.
Murkrow.
A Dark- and Flying-type Pokémon, infamous in whispered rumors for following travelers and bringing misfortune. Yet here it was, close enough for Jayden to reach out and touch.
And he did.
His hand trembled as he raised it. His fingers quivered as though the motion alone cost him more strength than he could spare. Inch by inch, he brought his hand down toward the bird.
He paused just before contact, breath caught in his throat.
Then, exhaling slowly, he brushed his palm against its feathers.
The surface was rough. Dry. Brittle.
Murkrow's body carried the same weakness as his own—malnourished, starved, clinging to life.
Jayden's lips parted. His voice was hoarse, but it escaped him anyway.
"…I didn't expect… I'd still return here."
The words hung in the air, fragile yet heavy.
He shut his eyes.
And memory surged like a tide.
––
He had not always been this weak.
Once, he had clawed his way into power, rising from nothing to the rank of a quasi-Elite Trainer—one step below the feared Elite Four. His name had spread through whispers in the underground. In the shadows of the world, Jayden Cross had become a figure that carried both fear and envy.
But that path had not begun with glory.
It had begun with chains.
Team Rocket had captured him years ago. Dragged him into the darkness, thrown him into one of their brutal survival trials. They called it a test, but it was slaughter disguised as training. Children were tossed onto an island much like this one with only the barest hope of surviving. Pokémon roamed wild, food was scarce, and cruelty was law.
Most never made it out.
But Jayden had.
Not because of luck. Not because of mercy. But because of something hidden—something that had awakened in him when he was pushed to the edge of death.
That secret had given him an edge. With it, he had climbed where others fell, carving his place in Rocket's merciless hierarchy. From a nameless prisoner, he had risen into a Trainer whose abilities were spoken of with both respect and caution.
But arrogance had grown in him as surely as strength.
When the League struck at Team Rocket in one of their largest raids, Jayden had been betrayed. A rival within Rocket, envious of his rise, had fed the League his location.
And Jayden had scoffed at the danger.
At the time, with power brimming inside him, he thought himself untouchable. He believed no encirclement could hold him, no trap could snuff out his strength. He had fought with reckless confidence, certain he could cut his way free.
He had been wrong.
The League had not sent ordinary hunters.
They had sent two Elites.
Their fury had been merciless. Their coordination flawless. His Pokémon had fallen one by one, crushed beneath overwhelming power. His strategies crumbled. His arrogance cracked into terror.
And in the end, buried under their wrath, Jayden Cross had died.
––
But now, he opened his eyes.
The moonlight painted his thin body in silver. His breath fogged faintly in the cool night air. His heart pounded in his chest—not with fear, but with the raw weight of being alive when he should not be.
Slowly, Jayden raised his hands.
They were pale, thin, the veins visible beneath the skin. His fingers trembled as he spread them.
No scars. No calluses.
The hardened proof of his past battles was gone.
These were not the hands of a fighter. Not the hands of a man who had once stood at the edge of the Elite Four's shadow.
They were the hands of a boy.
Jayden clenched them into fists.
His nails dug into his palms, sharp and painful. He welcomed the sensation.
"I…" His whisper shook. "…I'm really back."
The world blurred for an instant. At the very edge of his vision, something flickered faintly.
[System… integrity check pending.]
Jayden froze.
The strange letters lingered for less than a second before vanishing, leaving only the moonlit beach and the sound of waves.
His breath hitched. For a heartbeat, his pulse raced faster.
Then he forced himself to exhale slowly, lowering his hands.
It was probably nothing. A trick of his exhaustion. A ghost of memory.
Probably.
Murkrow shifted beside him, letting out a soft caw. Its red eyes studied him, cautious but steady, as though it too sensed something different about the boy.
Jayden forced a small breath of laughter through his nose. "You're still here… huh?"
The bird tilted its head, feathers rustling faintly in the sea breeze.
For the first time since opening his eyes, Jayden felt a flicker of warmth.
But it did not last.
Hunger clawed at his stomach, sharp and insistent. His body was weak, his limbs heavy. He remembered the scarcity of food on Trial Island. Every day had been a fight not just against wild Pokémon, but against starvation itself.
And he knew, if he was here again… it meant the trial had begun again too.
Jayden swallowed hard, his throat dry.
This time, he would not falter.
This time—he would not repeat the same mistakes.
––
The forest at the edge of the beach loomed like a wall of black teeth.
Each tree leaned inward, their branches twisted and interlocked until the canopy swallowed even the moonlight. Beyond that boundary was darkness, a place alive with unseen eyes and rustling movements. The island breathed with predators, both Pokémon and nature itself.
Jayden knew what it meant.
Trial Island.
He had walked these cursed sands before, bled among these trees, starved beneath this sky. The Rocket syndicate called it training, but everyone else knew the truth. It was a crucible—one meant to strip away the weak until only monsters and survivors remained.
Jayden shifted his weight, his body heavy with exhaustion. His lips curled into a humorless smile.
"…Back to the start."
He remembered the first time he had stood here years ago. He had been younger, hungrier, terrified. He had fought for scraps of food, built traps with shaking hands, thrown himself into battles he had no right to survive.
He had hated every second of it.
But he had endured.
And now, he was here again.
His fingers brushed against Murkrow's feathers once more. The bird leaned into the touch, hesitant but accepting. Its feathers were brittle beneath his hand, the same signs of deprivation that marked his own body.
"You've suffered too," Jayden murmured. His voice was steadier now. "But you stayed alive."
Murkrow blinked at him, head tilting, eyes bright in the moonlight. A soft caw escaped it, almost questioning.
Jayden chuckled softly. "I guess we're both stubborn."
His chest ached at the sound.
He remembered how this Murkrow—this same fragile creature—had once stood beside him until the very end. It had shielded him from attacks far beyond its strength, its body thrown forward in desperate defiance even as Elite-level power tore through it.
It had been loyal.
And he… he had treated it as little more than a tool.
Jayden clenched his jaw.
Not this time.
Never again.
He lowered his hand, curling it into a fist against his knee. His eyes narrowed, sharp despite the exhaustion, burning with something the waves could not wash away.
"I won't waste this chance," he whispered. "I won't waste you."
The vow sank into the silence between them, heavier than steel, sharper than glass.
Murkrow let out another soft cry, as if in answer.
For a moment, Jayden allowed himself to smile.
It was a small thing, stiff and awkward. His muscles had forgotten the motion. But he forced it anyway, for Murkrow's sake.
The bird's feathers rustled faintly as it leaned closer.
And in that fragile bond, something stirred.
The edges of Jayden's vision flickered.
[System calibration… incomplete.]
The faint letters shimmered for an instant, pale green against the night.
Jayden's heart skipped.
Again?
The words dissolved before he could grasp them, vanishing into the dark.
Murkrow shifted, as if it had sensed the change in him. Jayden exhaled slowly, dragging air into lungs that ached with hunger.
"…It wasn't my imagination."
He didn't know what it was. Not yet. But deep inside, he understood. Something had returned with him—something buried in his mind, dormant but alive.
It was waiting.
Watching.
And perhaps, when the time came, it would awaken fully.
Jayden shook his head. Dwelling on it now would do nothing. Survival came first.
His stomach growled, loud in the quiet night. He grimaced, pressing a hand against it.
"Food… shelter… water," he muttered, listing the basics. His voice was flat, practical, already shifting into the rhythm he remembered from his first trial. "We'll need to move inland by dawn. The beach is too exposed."
Murkrow flapped its wings weakly, as though in agreement.
Jayden's gaze hardened.
He remembered the old saying whispered among Rocket recruits: On Trial Island, every day you live is borrowed time.
But this time, he didn't plan to simply borrow life.
He planned to seize it.
He turned his head toward the forest, where the shadows swayed with the sound of nocturnal predators.
Fear gnawed faintly at his stomach, but he smothered it beneath resolve.
"…I won't be weak again."
The vow left his lips like iron.
The waves hissed their approval. The moon bore silent witness. Murkrow's crimson eyes reflected the resolve burning in his.
And somewhere, deep within him, the unseen system whispered faintly:
[Observation logged… subject: Jayden Cross.]
The flicker vanished into the night.
But the promise had been made.
––
TO BE CONTINUED
END OF CHAPTER (CHAPTER 1)
-[FINAL LOG OF ABILITIES AND POKÉMON]
[Pokémon Partner: Murkrow (♂)]
Typing: Dark / Flying
Height/Weight: Undersized (approx. 0.4 m, lighter than average)
Condition: Malnourished, brittle feather structure, low stamina
Emotional State: Wary but responsive, cautious trust developing
Current Role: Survival partner, latent potential awaiting growth
[Trainer: Jayden Cross]
Apparent Age: 15 (physical reset)
Condition: Malnourished, no battle scars or calluses
Psychological State: Heavy with guilt and memory of past death; new vow to protect bond with Murkrow; driven by survival instinct
Notable Anomaly: [Unidentified neural system flickering in background — integrity check incomplete]