In a place beyond time, beyond space, beyond the comprehension of mortal minds, the Hall of Origin stood eternal.
It was not a physical location in any conventional sense. The gleaming golden floors did not exist in three-dimensional space. The towering pillars that rose toward an infinite ceiling occupied no measurable volume. The light that suffused every surface came from no source that could be identified or understood.
It was a realm of pure concept, a dimension where the fundamental forces of reality gathered to observe the universe they had created.
And at the center of it all, Arceus watched.
The Alpha Pokémon floated above a pool of shimmering light—a window into the mortal world below. Its thousand arms of golden light extended outward, each one connected to a different aspect of existence, each one maintaining the delicate balance that kept reality from unraveling into chaos.
The image in the pool showed a frozen mountaintop, where a silent trainer stood surrounded by legendary Pokémon. The three birds of Kanto, the guardians of Johto, the artificial god created by human hubris. All of them gathered, all of them listening, all of them united in purpose.
Arceus felt something stir in its infinite consciousness. Something that, in a lesser being, might have been called satisfaction.
"You are pleased."
The voice came from behind—if "behind" had any meaning in a realm without fixed spatial orientation. Arceus did not turn; it had no need to. It perceived all things simultaneously, knew all things eternally.
Dialga emerged from the flowing streams of time that it called home, its diamond-studded form gleaming with temporal energy. The Temporal Pokémon moved with the weight of ages, each step a century, each breath an epoch.
"The chosen one performs as expected," Dialga continued, its voice resonating across dimensions. "He has discovered the Mega Ring you provided. He has begun to question the limits of what is possible."
As I intended, Arceus replied, its thoughts broadcasting directly into the minds of all present. He was always destined for more than the original occupant of that body could achieve. The soul I placed within carries potential that this world has never seen.
"A soul from beyond the veil." Palkia materialized beside its sibling, spatial distortions rippling around its pearl-adorned form. The Spatial Pokémon regarded the image in the pool with something approaching curiosity. "You took a dying mortal from another reality entirely and placed it in the body of one of this world's greatest trainers. A bold gambit."
A necessary one, Arceus corrected. The threats that approach require a champion unlike any who has come before. Red was strong, but his isolation had made him stagnant. His heart had grown cold, his purpose unclear. He needed to be... renewed.
"And so you killed him." The third voice was darker, more sardonic, emerging from a tear in reality that bled shadows like an open wound. Giratina coiled into existence, its antimatter form casting impossible shadows across the Hall of Origin. "You reached into another world, plucked a dying soul from oblivion, and used it to overwrite one of your own creations. How very... divine of you."
I did not kill Red, Arceus replied, and there was a weight to its thoughts that silenced even the Renegade Pokémon. His body lives. His memories persist. His bonds with his Pokémon remain intact. What I did was add to him—grant him a perspective and a passion that he lacked. The being who now stands on that mountain is not a replacement, but an evolution.
"Semantics," Giratina hissed, but it did not press the point. Even the lord of the Distortion World knew better than to challenge Arceus on matters of creation.
Dialga moved closer to the viewing pool, its ancient eyes studying the scene below. "He speaks to them of fusion. A concept that does not exist in the natural order of this world."
It exists now, Arceus said simply. I have made it so.
Palkia's form rippled with surprise. "You altered the fundamental laws of reality? For the sake of one mortal?"
Not altered. Expanded. Arceus's golden light pulsed with something that might have been amusement. The potential for fusion has always existed, dormant within the bonds between Pokémon and their trainers. I simply... awakened it. Made it accessible to one who has the strength and the will to reach for it.
"And if he fails?" Giratina asked, its tone carrying a note of genuine curiosity rather than its usual mockery. "If this fusion proves impossible even for your chosen one?"
Then he will learn from the failure and try again. That is the nature of the soul I selected. Arceus's attention focused more intently on the image below, where the trainer was now receiving the emotional responses of his legendary Pokémon. He comes from a world where Pokémon were fiction—stories told for entertainment, games played for amusement. He spent his mortal life dreaming of a reality like this one, wishing with all his heart that he could experience what he could only imagine.
That kind of longing leaves a mark on a soul. It creates a capacity for wonder, for dedication, for the kind of love that transcends normal limits. When I reached into his dying moments and offered him a choice—oblivion or rebirth—he did not hesitate. He accepted without conditions, without demands, without even understanding what he was agreeing to.
That is why I chose him. Not for his strength or his knowledge, but for his heart. A heart that has dreamed of this world for decades. A heart that will never take any of it for granted.
The three Creation Pokémon were silent for a long moment, contemplating the implications of their creator's words.
Finally, Dialga spoke. "The timeline has shifted since his arrival. Events that were fixed have become fluid. Possibilities that were closed have reopened. The future is... uncertain in a way it has not been for millennia."
Good, Arceus replied. Certainty breeds stagnation. Uncertainty breeds growth. The challenges ahead will require adaptability, creativity, the willingness to attempt the impossible. This new Red possesses all of those qualities.
"The challenges ahead," Palkia repeated. "You speak as if you know what is coming."
I am Arceus. I created this reality and all others. Of course I know what is coming.
The weight of those words hung in the air—if it could be called air—of the Hall of Origin. Even the Creation Pokémon, beings of immense power and ancient wisdom, felt small in the face of their creator's absolute certainty.
Giratina recovered first, its sardonic nature reasserting itself. "And you won't tell us what these great challenges are, I suppose. You prefer to watch us scramble in ignorance while your pet human blunders toward some destiny only you can see."
I prefer to allow events to unfold naturally, Arceus corrected. Intervention breeds dependency. If I revealed every threat and provided every solution, what would be the point of mortal existence? They must earn their victories, learn from their defeats, grow through their struggles. That is the nature of life.
But I will say this: the one who now bears the name Red will be tested. Severely, repeatedly, in ways that will push him to the very limits of what he is capable of. And the fusion he now contemplates—the impossible merger of legendary Pokémon—will be essential to surviving what is to come.
The image in the pool shifted, showing a closer view of the trainer's face. His eyes—Red's eyes, but animated by a different soul—burned with determination as he communicated with his gathered legendaries. There was no hesitation in him, no doubt. Only the absolute conviction that what he was attempting could be achieved.
Look at him, Arceus said, and there was unmistakable warmth in its infinite voice. Look at how they respond to him. Not with fear or obligation, but with love. With trust. With the willing desire to follow him wherever he leads.
That is why he is my chosen one. Not because I granted him power—though I have—but because he earns the loyalty of beings who have no reason to serve anyone. He touches something in them that their original trainer, for all his strength, never quite reached.
Dialga studied the image with the weight of ages behind its gaze. "The original Red formed bonds with these legendaries through battle and capture. Standard trainer methodology, if exceptionally well-executed."
Yes. But this Red forms bonds through understanding. Through empathy. Through taking the time to know each Pokémon as an individual, to learn their hopes and fears, to address their loneliness and offer them genuine connection.
The original Red was a master of battling. This Red is becoming a master of bonding. And in the end, it is bonds that will save this world—not strength alone.
Palkia's form rippled again, spatial distortions creating momentary windows into other realities. "Other worlds have faced the threats you hint at. Other champions have risen to meet them. Some succeeded. Many failed. What makes you certain that this one will be different?"
I am not certain, Arceus admitted, and the confession sent shockwaves through the Hall of Origin. The Alpha Pokémon, admitting uncertainty? It was almost unthinkable. Certainty would require eliminating his free will, his capacity to choose his own path. That would defeat the purpose of his existence.
What I am is hopeful. And I have stacked the odds in his favor as much as I am willing to do without compromising his agency. The Mega Ring. The Charizardite X. The dream of fusion that I planted in his sleeping mind. These are tools, opportunities, doors that he can choose to walk through or ignore.
He has chosen to walk through them. Every time, without hesitation, he reaches for more. That is why I have hope.
Giratina coiled closer to the viewing pool, its antimatter eyes fixed on the image of the trainer below. "You mentioned the dream. You gave him a vision of fusion—of the legendary birds merging into a single entity. That seems like a rather direct intervention for someone who claims to prefer letting events unfold naturally."
A seed, Arceus replied. Nothing more. The idea of fusion had to come from somewhere, and his previous world's fiction—while imaginative—lacked the specificity needed to guide him toward actual achievement. I provided a starting point. Everything else is up to him.
"And if he achieves it?" Dialga asked. "If he actually manages to fuse legendary Pokémon—beings whose power rivals our own? The implications for the balance of power in this world would be... significant."
That is the point. Arceus's golden light intensified, filling the Hall with radiance that would have blinded mortal eyes. The threats that approach are significant. The forces that will seek to unmake this reality are not petty criminals or misguided idealists. They are powers that rival my own children—that rival, in some cases, myself.
To face such threats, this world needs a champion of unprecedented power. A trainer whose bonds transcend normal limits, whose Pokémon can achieve forms that have never existed, whose determination can overcome obstacles that would break any ordinary being.
It needs Red. Not the Red who was, but the Red who is becoming.
The Creation Pokémon absorbed this in silence. The weight of Arceus's words pressed down on them like the gravity of a thousand suns, the implications staggering in their scope.
Finally, Giratina spoke, its voice uncharacteristically subdued. "You truly believe the threats are that severe? That this world faces extinction-level dangers?"
I know they are. I have seen the shadows gathering at the edges of reality, the forces that seek to tear the fabric of existence asunder. I have watched them approach across the timeless void, patient and inexorable.
This world has faced challenges before—Team Rocket, Team Magma and Aqua, Team Galactic. But those were human threats, limited by human ambitions. What comes next is something else entirely.
And when it arrives, Red must be ready. He and his Pokémon must have achieved levels of power that currently seem impossible. Fusion is only the beginning.
The image in the pool shifted again, showing the legendary Pokémon responding to their trainer's proposal with overwhelming support. Articuno's cool acceptance, Zapdos's crackling enthusiasm, Moltres's warm determination. Lugia's ancient hope, Ho-Oh's sacred blessing, Mewtwo's cold logic giving way to unexpected warmth.
Look at them, Arceus said again. Six legendary Pokémon, each older and more powerful than most civilizations. And they follow him willingly, eagerly, with love in their hearts and trust in their souls.
That is not the result of power or manipulation. That is the result of genuine connection—the kind of bond that cannot be forced, only earned. He has earned their loyalty in ways that even I cannot fully explain.
He is my chosen one. And I believe—I hope—that he will rise to meet whatever challenges await.
Dialga turned away from the pool, its diamond-studded form catching the eternal light of the Hall. "Then we will watch. And if necessary, we will assist when the time comes."
No. Arceus's denial was absolute, brooking no argument. You will not interfere. None of us will. If he cannot achieve what is necessary through his own efforts—with the tools and opportunities I have provided—then interference would only delay the inevitable.
He must earn his power. He must grow through his struggles. He must become the champion this world needs through his own choices and his own sacrifices.
That is the only way.
Palkia's form rippled with something that might have been frustration. "And if he fails? If the threats overwhelm him despite his efforts? You would let this world burn rather than intervene directly?"
I would. There was no hesitation in Arceus's response, no uncertainty. Because a world that cannot produce champions capable of saving it does not deserve to be saved. Because intervention breeds dependency, and dependency breeds weakness. Because the purpose of creation is growth, and growth requires the possibility of failure.
But I do not believe he will fail. I have watched him since the moment of his rebirth, have observed his every choice and action. He has the heart of a true champion—not because he is strong, but because he never stops trying to become stronger. Not because he is wise, but because he learns from every mistake. Not because he is brave, but because he feels fear and acts anyway.
Those are the qualities that define greatness. And he has them in abundance.
Giratina laughed—a sound like tearing reality, like shadows screaming. "You sound almost fond of him, Creator. Careful—attachment to mortals has been the downfall of many a god."
Perhaps. Arceus's golden light pulsed with something that might have been amusement, or might have been warning. But I am not many a god. I am Arceus. And I do not make mistakes.
The image in the pool continued to show the summit of Mt. Silver, where a trainer and his legendary Pokémon were beginning to plan their assault on the impossible. The partner Pikachu sat on his shoulder, its small form somehow holding its own among the gathered legends.
He will succeed, Arceus said, and there was absolute conviction in its infinite voice. He will achieve fusion. He will unlock powers that have never existed. He will become the champion this world needs.
And when the darkness comes—when the shadows that gather at the edges of reality finally make their move—he will be ready.
That is my belief. That is my hope. That is the faith I have placed in the soul I chose to save.
The Creation Pokémon said nothing. There was nothing to say. When the Alpha Pokémon spoke with such certainty, argument was pointless.
They simply watched, as they had always watched, as the mortal world continued its endless dance of growth and change, of triumph and tragedy, of champions rising and falling across the ages.
But this time, something was different.
This time, they watched with hope.
In the depths of the Hall of Origin, in a space that even the Creation Pokémon rarely visited, something stirred.
It was not a Pokémon. It was not a god. It was something older, something more fundamental—a presence that had existed before Arceus shaped the first reality, that would exist long after the last star burned out.
It had no name. It had no form. It was simply... awareness. Observation. The eternal witness that watched all things without judgment or interference.
And it, too, was watching the trainer on the mountain.
Interesting, it thought, in a mode of cognition that predated thought itself. Very interesting indeed.
The Alpha has chosen well. This one burns bright—brighter than most who have worn that title across the infinite realities. He carries the fire of genuine passion, the weight of genuine love. He is not merely playing at being a champion. He is becoming one.
The challenges ahead will test him. Break him, perhaps, before rebuilding him stronger. That is the nature of the crucible—it destroys what is weak and forges what remains into something unbreakable.
Will he survive the forging? Will he emerge from the fire as the champion the Alpha believes he can be?
Only time will tell. And time, unlike the Alpha's creations, is truly infinite.
The presence withdrew, its attention turning to other matters in other realities. But a fragment of its awareness remained fixed on the frozen mountain, on the trainer who was even now beginning his assault on the impossible.
It would continue watching. It always did.
And perhaps—just perhaps—it would be impressed by what it saw.
Back on the summit of Mt. Silver, unaware of the cosmic forces observing his every move, he concluded his communication with his legendary Pokémon.
They were willing. All of them were willing to try. The impossible suddenly seemed slightly less impossible.
He didn't know that Arceus was watching. He didn't know about the Hall of Origin or the Creation Pokémon or the ancient presence that observed all things. He didn't know about the threats that gathered at the edges of reality, or the destiny that had been shaped for him since before his rebirth.
All he knew was that he had a goal, and he had the support of beings who trusted him enough to reach for it.
That was enough. It had to be enough.
The partner Pikachu chirped on his shoulder, its small voice cutting through the weight of the moment. "Pika pika!"
He smiled, reaching up to scratch behind its ears. Even surrounded by legendary Pokémon, even contemplating the impossible, the simple comfort of his partner's presence grounded him.
One step at a time, he thought. That's how you climb any mountain. One step at a time.
He began to plan the first attempt at fusion, his mind racing with possibilities and his heart burning with determination.
Far above, in a realm beyond mortal comprehension, Arceus watched.
And felt satisfaction.