Chapter 6: The Watchful Eyes of the Sage

Deep within the mountains, where the air was thick with mist and the rivers sang in hushed whispers, a pair of ancient eyes opened.

Gamamaru, the Great Toad Sage of Mount Myōboku, stirred from his meditation.

For centuries, he had remained still, his massive body rooted like a great stone among the temple ruins. His wisdom stretched across time itself, his visions guiding those who sought his counsel. He had foreseen the rise and fall of many—heroes, villains, and forces that shaped the world.

But now, something unusual had caught his attention.

A ripple in the balance.

Something—or someone—was tapping into Nature Energy.

This, in itself, was not alarming. Many had tried to wield the power of nature before, some with guidance, others through raw instinct. But this presence was different.

It had no conscious intent.

No understanding of the power it was beginning to wield.

And yet… It succeeded.

Gamamaru's heavy-lidded eyes narrowed.

He focused his senses, extending his awareness outward, beyond the sacred grounds of Mount Myōboku, beyond the familiar energies of the shinobi world, to where the disturbance resonated.

The presence was small. Weak.

Yet, it was blending with nature itself.

The way it moved, the way its energy wove into the world—it was as if the very forest had accepted it, as if it had always belonged.

But that was impossible.

To truly master Nature Energy required discipline, training, and a deep bond with the world around oneself. Even among those trained in the ways of Senjutsu, few could harmonize with nature so easily.

And this being—this creature—had no master, no teacher.

It was simply… doing it.

Who are you? Gamamaru thought, his voice an echo upon the winds of fate.

A forgotten enemy? A lost soul? Or worse—a force that could disrupt the prophecy?

For years, he had waited, guided by visions of the one who would bring balance. The prophesied child, the one who would determine the fate of the shinobi world.

But this presence… this mystery…

It did not belong to any prophecy he had foreseen.

Gamamaru exhaled deeply, his breath stirring the air like rolling thunder.

Perhaps this was nothing. Perhaps it was a mere animal unknowingly treading the path of sages.

But his instincts warned him otherwise.

And if this presence was a new player in the great weave of fate…

He needed to find out what role it would play.

Alex shivered, his body still tense from his last attempt at blending in.

That warm feeling had come again, but only for a brief moment. It was strange, unfamiliar, yet… oddly comforting.

He could almost hear the forest better when it happened, almost feel the shift in the wind as if it were whispering to him.

But that wasn't what worried him the most.

No—what haunted his thoughts now was something else entirely.

What if I meet a human?

The thought sent a shiver through him.

At first, he had dreamed of it—longed for it—the idea that maybe, just maybe, a human could help him. That they could tell him what had happened, why he was here, and how to go back.

But then reality sank in.

He was a Pokémon now. And what did humans do to Pokémon?

They caught them. Trained them. Controlled them.

Even if he still thought, still reasoned like a human, would anyone believe him?

He could already imagine it.

A trainer walking through the woods, eyes lighting up at the sight of a rare Froakie in the wild.

A Poké Ball flying toward him.

A bright flash of red light swallowed him whole.

The idea of being trapped, reduced to nothing more than data inside a ball, made his stomach churn. Would he feel anything? Would he still have control over himself?

Would he even be him anymore?

And yet…

He didn't want to be alone.

The silence of the forest was heavy, pressing against him like an invisible weight.

No voices. No human laughter. No comfort of knowing someone else was there.

Just him.

He thought of his family—his mother's warm smile, his sister's teasing voice, his father's quiet but steady presence.

Would he ever see them again?

Would they even know he was gone?

The loneliness clawed at him, sharp and painful.

But then the fear followed, curling around his mind like a creeping vine.

If he found a human, he might not be alone anymore.

But if they didn't see him as a person—if they only saw a Pokémon—

What would happen to him then?

The contradiction gnawed at his heart.

I don't want to be alone.

But I don't want to be caught.

There was no easy answer. No right choice.

So for now, he had to survive.

And that meant staying hidden.

His stomach rumbled.

He pushed the thoughts aside.

Focus.

He crept toward the stream, crouching low in the tall grass. The water was clear, sunlight reflecting off its surface as tiny fish darted below.

Hunting still felt wrong.

Back when he had been human, he had eaten fish before, but catching them himself was different. The act of stalking, of striking, of tearing into something that was once alive—it unsettled him.

But the alternative was starvation.

So he forced his mind into cold logic.

I need food. If I don't eat, I'll die.

His webbed fingers twitched as he watched the fish move. He had been too slow last time, but today, he had an idea.

The fogfish.

It had disappeared into the water, blending with its surroundings. And when the moment was right, it struck.

I need to do the same.

He took a deep breath and lowered his body, pressing against the ground.

He tried to become still, to let himself sink into the environment.

The wind shifted. The grass swayed. And for a moment—just a moment—he felt it again.

That warmth.

It pulsed through him, soft and welcoming, like the world itself was recognizing him.

His heart pounded.

The fish swam closer.

His muscles tensed, ready to strike—

But then, the warmth vanished.

The connection snapped like a string pulled too tight.

Alex let out a sharp breath, his body jerking slightly—

And the fish darted away.

Damn it!

He slapped the water in frustration, sending ripples across the stream.

He had felt it. That thing inside him. It was real.

But it was so fragile.

He had to learn how to control it.

Not just for hunting.

For survival.

Because if the hawk returned, or if a trainer came looking—

He needed to be ready.

His loneliness, his fear, his doubts—none of them would matter if he didn't make it through this.

Taking a deep breath, Alex steeled himself.

He wasn't giving up.

Not now. Not ever.