Pokémon: Breeding Simulator [161] [50 PS]

It took a while before Zoroark finally—reluctantly—got up.

Seeing that Zoroark's expression had returned to normal, Elias stood and gave the Pokémon another rough ruffle on the head.

He had reason to suspect that Zoroark's initial pounce had been a genuine emotional outburst.

But the way it refused to get up afterward? That was just plain clinginess.

"Elias, y-you're okay, right?"

At that moment, Lucario walked over as well.

Glancing at Zoroark still standing nearby, he couldn't help swallowing hard.

That strike Zoroark had landed on Tornadus earlier had been brutal. Even from a distance, he could feel the raw, overwhelming power.

If he'd been in Tornadus's place, Lucario wasn't at all sure he'd still be standing now.

Yeah… I'd better be careful not to piss that fox off again in the future…

Lucario silently made a mental note.

Meanwhile, Elias had already made his way over to the unconscious Tornadus.

As he crouched down and pulled out a Poké Ball, he responded to Lucario:

"I'm fine. This Tornadus isn't as strong as I thought."

That was the truth.

Elias had expected Tornadus—hyped up as a legendary Pokémon by Cogita—to be far more powerful.

But it turned out to be a good deal weaker than anticipated.

Even without Lucario, Elias was confident that he and Zoroark alone could've taken it down.

With that in mind, he tapped the Poké Ball gently against Tornadus's unconscious form.

Thwip—

With a flash of red light, Tornadus was sucked entirely into the ball.

The sealed Poké Ball twitched twice in Elias's palm, as if resisting.

But in its fainted state, Tornadus clearly couldn't break free.

Before long, the ball stilled and emitted the familiar, crisp click that signaled a successful capture.

Tornadus: captured.

Holding the Poké Ball, Elias couldn't help feeling a little excited.

He might not care much for Tornadus himself, but Cogita was definitely interested.

He could already imagine that stunned, wide-eyed look on her face.

"So that thing… is a Poké Ball too?"

Just then, Cynthia approached, Garchomp trailing at her side.

She eyed the orange-and-white Poké Ball in Elias's hand, a puzzled look on her face.

It wasn't that Cynthia didn't recognize Poké Balls.

It was just that… she'd never seen one this crudely made before.

Modern industrial processes ensured that every Poké Ball was mass-produced to a precise standard.

Even the most basic red-and-white ones were seamless and polished, like little works of art.

But the one Elias held—while decently crafted—was obviously inferior to any industrial-made ball.

Most surprisingly of all, the button in the center was wooden.

That alone left Cynthia rather stunned.

Worried Elias might've bought some sort of fake, she felt it was her duty as a Champion to check things out properly.

On the other side, noticing her interest, Elias didn't hide anything. He casually handed her the ball and said:

"If you're curious, take a look."

"This was the first fully finished Poké Ball I ever made. Doesn't look great, I know, but it's definitely better than the half-baked junk the Ginkgo Guild turns out."

As she dazedly accepted the ball from Elias, Cynthia felt her brain starting to short-circuit.

He made it himself?

Is this guy one of those traditional Poké Ball craftsmen?

Cynthia knew that even in the modern world, with its advanced industry, there were still craftsmen who made Poké Balls by hand.

Those were usually insanely valuable and hard to come by.

And this boy—on top of being a talented Pokémon trainer—could do this too?

Cynthia stood there, mouth slightly open in astonishment.

But soon, another thought occurred to her—and something felt off.

What was that he just said? Ginkgo Guild?

A sense of foreboding stirred in her chest. Carefully choosing her words, she asked:

"Um… could you tell me where we are right now?"

"And if I wanted to return to the Pokémon League… how would I do that?"

Cynthia had decided that if she wanted to figure out why her body had shrunk, the safest bet was to return to the League first.

But almost immediately, she realized something was very wrong.

When Elias heard her question, he furrowed his brow slightly.

The League? What League?

You mean… the one between the Diamond and Pearl Clans?

After a moment's confusion, Elias shook his head and replied:

"This is the heart of the Alabaster Icelands in the Hisui region—a high-risk zone."

"As for the League you mentioned… sorry, I've never heard of it."

His tone was sincere—he didn't sound like he was lying at all.

Upon hearing this, Cynthia's heart sank.

She could tell he wasn't joking.

Which meant…

He really didn't know what the Pokémon League was.

And most crucially—

He'd just said Hisui.

As an enthusiast of ancient history, Cynthia had studied numerous ancient texts found in the ruins across Sinnoh.

Some of them had referenced a region called "Hisui."

From her own research, she'd concluded that "Hisui" was likely the ancient name for what was now Sinnoh.

Coupled with the hand-crafted Poké Ball and the unfamiliar Pokémon she'd seen so far, a terrifying possibility began to form in her mind.

Had she traveled through time… and ended up in ancient Sinnoh?

The moment the thought struck her, Cynthia felt a chill sweat break out across her forehead.

And if that was the case…

It would also explain why her body had changed—shrunk, even.

She'd been affected by the same time displacement.

"…I'm screwed," she muttered bitterly, glancing at the Garchomp beside her.

...

Inside the cave, Elias, Cynthia, and their Pokémon gathered around a small campfire.

The warm flames lit up the cavern, their heat keeping the two humans from freezing in their soaking wet clothes.

But unlike Elias, who was casually teasing Zoroark, Cynthia sat with a face full of worry.

After some conversation, she'd confirmed it—this really was ancient Sinnoh.

As a history lover, she had always been fascinated by this era—but that didn't mean she wanted to live in it!

She didn't even know how she'd arrived here—let alone how to get back.

Can I even go back?

That question kept circling in her mind, gnawing at her nerves.

And that wasn't the only thing bothering her.

Many of the clans in ancient Sinnoh were deeply devoted to their gods.

Would they see her—dressed in strange clothes and with no known origin—as some kind of outsider to be sacrificed in a bizarre ritual?

The thought made her want to cry.

For the first time as Champion… Cynthia felt helpless.

Truly, utterly powerless.