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The Renaître: A Ghost and His Brother

by Mr.RMA

Mr.RMA Lumiose citizen Tristan Blanche thought his longtime bout with strange dreams was over after reuniting with his long lost brother Denis, a young man who befell a grisly fate many years ago only to return to the mortal realm as a Phantump.
However, Tristan soon realizes the nightmares are far from over, as another subconscious vision comes to his attention, one bound to send him to the far western reaches of Kalos. However, before he can investigate this new dream, he and his rather meager Pokemon team must prove they're capable enough to survive the dangers that lie ahead.
The souls of the dead do not always have the keenest sense of direction. How can they? When the afterlife is not a singular destination for all, one is bound to get a little lost finding the way to theirs. Some have a better go at it, they figure things out, they’re at peace, and their next world, whatever that may be, reveals itself to them.

Others? Well… Others, they need guidance, and said guidance can come from many sources. I am but one of them, but I am not alone in undertaking such a job, even for a miniscule fraction of the deceased. No, far from it; I have found an associate, someone more qualified to take the hands-on approach that these wayward spirits need. It took him a while to figure it out, many years for that matter, but, when the time came, he did exactly what he needed to do, and a lost soul that was very close to him found a destiny all his own to undertake. He was the first, but there will be more. I believe this young man can give these spirits closure on what ties them to their pasts, and offer them a future they can, pardon the expression, live with. With any luck, they may very well become a team… but that is a future only in possibility, not inevitability. I can only plant the seeds; I do not know what will grow from them. It is up to that young man, his close companion, and his reunited brother, to make the decision to set everything else in motion… I do believe it will be interesting to see what choice they make.

A Ghost and His Brother – As Recounted by Tristan and Denis Blanche


Ghost types have always been… contentious when it comes to how the mortal world views them. They are by no means disrespected, but their very nature of being tends to send a few shivers down people’s collective spines. It’s tough to fault those people for feeling that way; after all, a great number of Pokemon that can be labeled “Ghost” type are perhaps the most mysterious creatures dwelling in this world, aside from the mythical creatures seen as near… or actual… deities to the public. Read up what some Pokedex entries say about these things… tell me you wouldn’t feel a bit uneasy upon running across a spooky looking specter when your primary source of information is telling you they can suffocate you just by getting too close, or that they can steal your soul if they stare at you with their burning eyes.

It genuinely feels like the people who research these ghost Pokemon are trying to make everyone paranoid with disturbing rumors and urban myths. All that being said though, oftentimes these myths stem from some degree of truth, just the details probably get lost somewhere along the line… or people simply haven’t had the chance to stow away their fear and get to know these Ghost types more closely. Fact is they’re still individual Pokemon, each one thinks differently, acts differently, and looks upon the world differently. Violent and aggressive sorts exist in pretty much every group, they don’t necessarily speak for the species at large… or at least, that’s what I believe.

What’s my opinion really matter though? I’m just some kid from a quiet corner of Lumiose who’s barely explored beyond his own city, let alone the whole Kalos Region or the entire world. I’m probably about as naïve as they come in most respects… well… aside from one. I’ll admit, I do have a little bit of experience with ghosts… helps when one you can directly associate with is quite literally a member of your family.

See, my brother Denis, as strange as this may sound, he’s actually a Phantump now. Perhaps you’ve heard the stories surrounding those guys, how they’re the spirits of children lost in the woods that have possessed rotted tree stumps and try to get other people lost just so they can play with them or something like that… Well, I can whole-heartedly confirm the truth in that rumor… Thing is, years ago, my brother snuck out of bed one night to explore the forest just outside of the city. I’d caught him leaving, but he promised me he’d be back shortly and, being the overly trusting 6-year-old I was at the time, I believed him.

He didn’t come back shortly at all… I wouldn’t see him again for about a decade’s time, and he wouldn’t look quite like the human I remembered him being. Apparently, all those years ago, a deranged little psychopath and his Pokemon (some massive Gourgeist, the biggest I’ve ever seen, in person or in the media) stumbled upon my brother and decided his life was worth taking. They killed him that night… and from how he recalls it… it was a slow process. He’s mentioned the last thing he could remember was the pain and the terrible singing from the Gourgeist, and then it was all over.

I don’t wanna get too detailed about it, but you can understand, most likely, how devastated the rest of us were when Denis never came back and we could never find a trace of him. You can likely guess how bad I felt not doing a damn thing to stop him… I was a little kid, I know I can’t blame myself for the rash or sick decisions of others, but even still, even now… I can’t help but let my mind pass over to the ‘what-ifs’ and the ‘if-onlys…’

It wasn’t until years later when the truth came out, but it was actually the day after he disappeared when the first hints sprang up… but I wouldn’t realize that for a while. See, what was happening was I was receiving these weird dreams, the same sort every few nights a month at first, and over time they became more frequent… They started happening once a week after a few years, and then, only recently, they were happening every single night.

Pretty obviously by then, I could tell these dreams were supposed to be a message of some kind. I mean, years of therapists and psychologists coming up short with ideas left me with few options to turn to. A few who’d dabbled in Pokemon research claimed it might be one of their outside influences, but they also said those tended to be temporary scenarios and the Pokemon tended to move from person to person lest they risk getting found out. Even now, I don’t have an answer as to who sent those dreams, but I finally took heed of them when they started affecting my parents as well. I needed this to stop before my entire family became insomnia-plagued wrecks.

Going by what I could actually perceive in these visions, I made my way to the forest that, unbeknownst to myself at the time, Denis had gone through all those years ago. It was there that we ended up having our reunion, but neither of us recognized the other… His memory had apparently gone with the loss of his human life, and… well… you think I’d look at a Phantump and automatically connect all the dots? I wasn’t even going out there to find any trace of him; that ship, I’d figured, had sailed. I just wanted to give my family some peace of mind.

What I nearly gave my family, instead of that peace of mind I was going for, was another child to mourn… That night, my brother’s killer made his return, and I was his next target… My one and only Pokemon under my care, Quagsire, fought the guy bravely, but he was way out of his element… literally… But as that Gourgeist grabbed me and started cutting away, something in Denis’ mind must have just snapped right back into place, and before I could suffer his fate, he toppled that monster in a vicious flurry of attacks, just one after another… Quagsire’s continued assistance left the fiend beat, and its murderous trainer decided if they were going down, they’d try to take as many of the rest of us down with them in a big final explosion. Denis saw to keeping me safe from the blast, and Quagsire dug out of harm’s way… but all of that doesn’t take away from the fact that the whole situation was the closest I’d ever come to death, and I’ll level with you, I wouldn’t be all too heartbroken if I never undergo that experience again for a very long time.

I’d wanted to know why this strange little ghost would fight his heart out for a stranger, and that was when he etched his name out to me. That was when it all clicked for me the way it had for him. This was my lost brother… Even if his human body had long since decayed and withered away, just to have him back in some form, it was more than I could’ve asked for.

I’d convinced him to come back to Lumiose with me, not just to make sure I got medical attention for my injuries, but to see the rest of the family again. He was hesitant, but he agreed to it… and well… now I’ve got a floating tree stump for an older brother. That’s… kinda cool, I can’t really deny that. Morbid as it seems, hey, this was the return of a family member we were all but positive was dead and gone from our lives for good. I’m just happy he’s back at all, and if I think it’s just a little neat that he’s a Pokemon, well, you know, if that’s unethical then you can just lock me up. I thought my brother was cool as his original human self anyway, not like this made me do a 180 regarding my opinion of him.

In case you’re curious, yes, I did technically ‘catch’ him at some point as well, but I never actually use the Pokeball, it’s all just a matter of making sure others can’t snag him while I’m looking off in the other direction. Just a means of security really, helps in case he gets himself hurt too, since it’s kinda difficult to carry an unconscious ghost to a Pokemon Center… ‘Unconscious ghost’… that’s like a paradox or something…

As for how that first day returning him back home went… Being as banged up as I was at the time, I can barely remember the details, it all kinda came off like a dream… Denis could probably recount it better than I can, and he’s figured out how to write with those stubby Phantump hands too. Helps cut down the issues with communication.


Maybe you can relate to this feeling – You spend many years in one place, you’ve grown up there, it’s the most familiar sort of location to you, to the point where it exemplifies what your perception of reality is. Now imagine something takes those memories away… for any reason. Maybe it’s age, maybe it’s time spent elsewhere… maybe you got yourself killed after making a stupid decision and turned into an amnesiac ghost… okay, maybe that destroys the relatability for most of you, but, getting back on track, the point is that sometimes that familiarity and understanding can get away from you. Sometimes home doesn’t quite feel like home, purely because you’ve forgotten what home is. That’s how it was for me, that first moment back in Lumiose.

My Phantump instinct was telling me the place was unfamiliar land, with dangerous people, but the memories that had been buried deep in my soul were telling me another story entirely, of a city that was once the only world I truly knew. I had to fight off the part of me that still thought like a wild Pokemon, but it was a struggle… Sometimes I still have to ward it off on occasion, but that first time was much more difficult. I was caught between the two realities, human and Pokemon, but I guess in a way, what proceeded from there helped me understand more why some Pokemon ultimately end up meshing quite well with human society. Just like it is for humans, once a Pokemon can come to terms with a new life, they can adapt, and ideally, they can thrive within the change, it’s all just a matter of coming to terms.

Getting Tristan to a medical facility wasn’t too difficult. Even in a massive town like Lumiose, the Pokemon Center’s easy to track down, and my returning memories seemed to quickly recall that ours had a wing that served as a hospital for humans as well. Guess it just seemed appropriate, keeping all the medical facilities within one convenient area, meant no one was likely to get lost looking for the right place, though it also meant the Center was rarely not in the midst of hustle and bustle. Still, the staff were dedicated, and people and Pokemon were helped quickly in equal measure. Tristan’s Quagsire got wheeled off for a hasty healing session and Tristan himself was soon after recovering in a hospital bed as mom and dad showed up. Their initial reactions were… what you’d expect from a caring couple of parents when their child gets lost and injured – furious they did something stupid, but immensely relieved they weren’t dead… all while looking about ready to pass out and get carried off to beds of their own.

My brother did his best to explain himself, mentioning the dreams he’d had, overhearing how they were starting to have them too, wanting to do something about it, all of it they at least followed, even if they were still obviously not happy about him sneaking off… but then he got around to the big news, and he looked absolutely pale… He must’ve realized how hard a sell this would be, how much our folks would get emotional over it… Whether they believed it or not, I think we both knew they were going to get flabbergasted beyond belief… and yeah… that’s exactly what happened.

“Mom… Dad… you see the little guy floating around the room?” he said, pointing to me. (The medical staff allowed me to stick by Tristan, provided I didn’t drift off and accidentally scare the hell out of any neighboring patients… Last thing a lot of them want to see while in a hospital is a ghost, for reasons I trust you can make out yourself.)

“Yes?” Dad answered, clearly unsure where this could be headed.

“Just… please hear this out, I know it’s going to sound ridiculous but… That Phantump there, that’s Denis.”

Now, I give my parents all the credit in the world for not simply admonishing my little brother for ‘telling such a lie in poor taste’ or something like that. They very well could have just gotten angry and not believed it, but, while they were obviously taken aback, they still didn’t just fall back into denial. Instead they merely looked at me in complete silence for a time. Their expressions communicated everything going on in their minds… blank stares of initial doubt that slowly turned into ones of shock, shock that fell back into uncertainty, uncertainty that seemed to be penetrated by a pang of acceptance, and that acceptance giving way to tears of true belief as I could only look to them and wave. It sounds like it all happened in an instant, but, believe me, each emotion took a while, and for everyone present, it likely felt even longer than that.

“…Denis?” Mom finally said to me in a hopeful sort of whimper, and though I couldn’t talk, at the very least I could nod my affirmation, still a bit terrified over what their realization would bring about. Suddenly then, I was wrapped up in a group hug from the two of them... (I should add that yes, that is possible. Despite being a ghost, I am in fact corporeal most of the time unless I will otherwise.)

To feel the embrace of my parents after being lost both physically and mentally for so long ended up bringing me to tears just like they were. It was like the last piece of my old life finally came back into the picture, no matter how different I looked, I still finally felt like myself again. At that moment, the family was back together again like old times, and I think the four of us just wanted to cherish that as much as possible, because most people don’t get another chance to do so after such a loss.

Now, I should also mention we didn’t all stay together in the same place for all too long after Tristan’s recovery, but there was a reason for that, and apparently, it’s a very similar reason to what led to him stumbling upon me. That’s more a matter for him to discuss, so I won’t really get into that here. All that being said, it was just a satisfying thing to be a whole family for a little while, and it’s not something I would ever want to take for granted. Just because I regained my human memories doesn’t mean I forgot everything from those years as a wild Phantump in the forest, I remembered being alone for long spans of time and just getting used to it… but it was never so much ‘getting used to it’ as it was denying that I was lonely and uncertain about what I was supposed to do except just get by and survive…

In that sense I guess, unlike the other Pokemon who seemed to know what they were doing, I never got a grasp of it until that fateful day. With these memories returned, I feel that sense of purpose I was lacking. Wherever it is that Tristan is thinking of heading off to next, that’s where I’m going as well. I wasn’t there for my little brother while he was growing up, I’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for, and honestly, despite the circumstances being on the surreal side, I always wanted to get a chance to go on some kind of globetrotting Pokemon journey. I think you’ll agree from how he explains it that this might well be turning into one of those.


Ah, right, I neglected to mention the present situation. Well, let’s back up a bit, to the part where I was talking about the dreams. You’d think they’d come to a stop now that I found my brother and brought him back home right? I mean, that’s what you ought to think, it’s kinda just the logical outcome, but it didn’t quite go down that way. Oh, my parents slept soundly from then on, and I guess I did for a few days, but… with the loss of one disturbingly real dream came another.

It was clear a vision as any… I was standing in the middle of a field; one I had seen before in history books… In fact, it looked familiar to a land I may have seen on television even… I was watching hundreds of Pokemon and people attacking each other in a battle on such a scale that I’d never seen before… and with more carnage than one could imagine. I saw myself falling to my knees… grasping at my chest. As my hand pulled back, I saw it dripping with blood. I felt weak, pain pumped through my body as I reached for a sword and clung to it. It was then that I saw something towering over the field… How did I even miss it? It was a massive structure, shaped like some kind of artificial flower blossoming in a bright red glow. I saw it fire out a blinding blast of energy, and all the fighters up ahead… I was able to see them start to collapse at once as the light washed over them… and then the world went dark just as the light neared me.

This dream… It messed me up for a bit just from how clear it was. Strangely enough though, it initially only came to me that one time, the rest of my nights were mostly peaceful when I could bring myself to actually sleep again. Still, maybe the fact that it was burnt into my memories played a factor. Whatever the case, I was quickly back in a therapist’s chair to talk it over.

Now, I’ve mentioned I’ve gone through a few shrinks over the years. They all had their varying degrees of effectiveness, though obviously none of them knew exactly what my problem was back when I was first getting these dreams… That being said, there was one who got the closest to figuring it out, and he was the one I was scheduling a meeting with. This guy, Bennett Osco, he’s an expat from Unova, and I guess he’s done a lot of traveling; used to be a trainer, took on a bunch of the leagues, that whole song and dance. Thing is, at some point in his journeys I guess he was starting to take up interest in how his companions, both human and Pokemon, would behave throughout their travels, trials and tribulations. That planted the seed that inspired his journey into professional counseling, and he ended up setting up shop in Lumiose. Trust me, the place needs a lot of people who specialize in mental health… When you live in a place that outsiders romanticize to such an extent, and yet you’ve just been so used to it that you can’t help but take all the beauty of the place for granted and more easily see all the cracks and imperfections, you’re definitely at risk of falling into a depressed kind of cynicism.

The place is nicely furnished but fairly minimalistic otherwise, though he does keep some of his Pokemon around the area, a pet-therapy kind of thing where they’ll let you pet a friendly Delcatty or Furfrou, or even a Skiddo on occasion. Once you’re let inside to the actual therapy room, it’s pretty similar, though he does keep a shelf of books nestled in the corner, and perhaps most notably, whenever he’s in, so is his Musharna. If you know how Musharna operate, you know exactly why I paid Osco a visit. A creature that can bring dreams into reality can make them a lot easier to be analyzed and comprehended, but of course, if the dream itself isn’t all too clear then there’s only so much anyone can do even if they can see it. And then there was the matter of the dream having only appeared to me that one time…

“It hasn’t come up again? At all?” Osco asked after I explained the situation to him as best I could.

“No… but it really doesn’t have to. I can’t forget this one, it still feels like I just woke out of it,” I answered him.

“Well… Usually Kleitman here materializes the dreams directly from the source…” he said, motioning to the Musharna floating by his side. “…But if it’s so deeply ingrained in your conscious mind that you can remember it so accurately, he might be able to put something together. No harm in trying.” At that he had me lay back and attempt to think about the dream with as much clarity that I could muster, and sure enough, it all seemed to play back just as it had that night. Uncomfortable as it was to really dwell on that moment, I nonetheless just tried to bear through it, and once I’d gotten to the end of the dream… the room’s surroundings had changed.

Aside from the chair I was sitting in, everything else was exactly as it was in the dream, the sprawling field of carnage, the Pokemon and people fighting to grisly ends, everything was similar… or… okay, one other exception actually… Though the dream was conjured up from my mind, I was no longer looking at it from the perspective of the fallen knight. Said individual was instead standing there before us, doubling over and clutching their sword the exact way I had, but their features were shadowy and near indecipherable beyond their armor.

“Wait… I know this place… No, hold the phone, I know this moment…” Osco said, his voice steadily giving way to near-panic once he saw the giant tower about to activate its devastating light. “Kleitman, cut it off! Now!” he practically yelled and, in an instant, we were back in the familiar room, shaken, but physically no worse for wear.

“That was… a close one, to put it mildly,” Osco said after we both went quiet for a good minute or so. “I think it’s important to remind you just how real a Musharna’s manifestation of a dream can be… and if that moment was exactly what I believe it was… well, let’s just say it’s a good thing Kleitman’s a quick responder.” The Musharna seemed to give a nod at that, looking a bit shaken as well as it dispelled a dark mist from its forehead, seemingly black in color, but on closer inspection it was more a very deep purple.

“I feel like I’ve seen that place before somehow, but like, not really…” I tried to explain to him, and he simply gave a quiet nod before responding any further.

“You likely read up on it in class. Perhaps you remember studying the Kalos War?”

“Right… The Kalos War… the one that happened thousands of years ago or something like that…” History wasn’t necessarily my greatest subject if you aren’t picking that up from my response.

“About three thousand years ago to be more exact. The moment you just witnessed happened in ancient Geosenge, the moment that marked the end of the war. A lot of the details were lost until recently, but essentially a machine had been built that ended up destroying the vast majority of warring units from both sides. Anyone who survived, well, either they weren’t involved or they realized fighting on would be pointless after what had happened. Some people say it was primarily the Pokemon who suffered, their life energy being drained into the machine that slaughtered them, but others believe that the people who were present were just as susceptible to the attack. There were simply more Pokemon on the battlefield, so their losses were obviously more drastic…”

Now this was a history lesson that could hold my attention, even if I couldn’t exactly wrap my head around it.

“How the hell could someone put together a machine like that? I mean, a weapon of mass destruction on that scale? That’s gotta be tough to build these days… but 3000 years ago?”

To that, Osco merely gave a shrug. “If people back then were anything like they are now… all a person would really need is enough money, power, obsession, and disregard for other lives. You must remember, Kalos has a longstanding history of royalty, some people say it was the king of the region who did it. They say he still roams the area to this day even, as little more than some massive lumbering vagrant. Just a few years ago a man who fit that description was seen challenging a newly crowned League champion to a battle.”

That gave me pause, because I firmly remembered seeing that moment transpire… The crowd was massive yet this one giant of a guy stood out amongst them all. I couldn’t see how the battle turned out, but after it was over, the man turned around, caught something in his hands, fell to his knees, and then, not long after, he just left. I’d always wondered what had happened in that last moment there to make him so emotional… but it doesn’t take a genius to assume it must’ve been something deeply personal if it could bring that reaction out of a guy rumored to be thousands of years old.

“You really think that guy was the king? From all those years ago?” I asked, not out of doubtful bewilderment, but more so out of genuine curiosity.

“Tristan, kid, you know what kind of world we live in…” he said with a quick chuckle as he reached over to pet Kleitman as the last of the dream energy was dispelled from its forehead, the drowsing Pokemon looking quite content with the friendly gesture. “These Pokemon here, with all the things they can do… it leaves a lot of things open to possibility as far as I’m concerned… You’ve witnessed that plentifully yourself regarding your brother’s return, and now we have this new dream of yours from the eyes of a fallen warrior of old...” Ah, yes, we were getting back on track here, lest we ended up going on for hours further discussing the chance that an immortal king… and theoretically the killer of countless thousands… was bumming his way around the world.

“So, do you think it means anything? I mean, in some ways this feels so different from the last situation, but… in others it feels way too similar,” I said to him, stressfully resting my head against one of my hands at the idea that my troubles were potentially just beginning at this rate.

“Well… One thing I’ve noticed, the visible dream energy that Kleitman dispelled from that last incident and the ones from before… they’re the same color… The dark shades infer nightmares, but, your average nightmare should be pitch black… this deep purple color is a lot less common… I didn’t want to theorize something that seemed like a bit of a wild theory before, but now there’s a little more grounding to it…” he murmured as he brought a hand to his chin in a pondering fashion.

“I could use any potential explanation you have at this point, Mr. Osco…” I told him, quite plainly.

“Plenty of Pokemon are known for transmitting dreams to others, both directly and indirectly. There’s a chance… if these prior dreams brought you to finding Denis, then maybe this dream is meant to lead you to someone else… Someone connected to that ancient war perhaps.”

“Someone else?” I repeated, and that definitely got an eyebrow raise out of me as I thought about it more. “But I don’t exactly have any other tragic losses in the family, let alone any kind of great warrior lineage going back to those days.”

“This may be another matter entirely, who knows? But it seems to me that, perhaps, you’ll find your answer if you take a trip to Geosenge and do a little investigating of your own.”

It seemed like a sound bit of advice, yet it still seemed less than likely to be brought to any reasonable execution, and I let out a scoff to make that clear.

“Well, I’m gonna have to wait till the Summer to even humor that… My folks would be beside themselves if I told them I wanted to do a cross-regional journey with winter coming around.”

“In which case, kid, I think it’s about time you stick up for yourself a little. I doubt your parents are out there trying to antagonize you, more likely they’re just afraid you can’t fend for yourself against the dangers that are out there… You’re gonna have to make it clear you think otherwise, ‘cause unless you want to get your memory wiped, you’re going to have to carry this dream around with you for a while… By the way, don’t ask me to wipe your memory, that’s not my department.”

Soon after that, our session came to an end. I made sure to thank both Osco and Kleitman, the former reminding me of the importance of proving my independence before I dismissed myself and headed back home. Not a moment after stepping foot on the street was Denis floating beside me, interested in hearing about the prior discussion.

“You know, you could’ve probably just come with me if you were so interested,” I said to him, but he just shook his head and mimed a sort of pushing motion as if to infer he wanted me to have my privacy. I explained to him how the therapy session went down, mostly sticking to what Osco had deduced from the dream, and Denis nodded along to it, up to the point where I mentioned actually investigating the place myself. At that he looked particularly concerned all of a sudden.

“Alright… so… judging by that face you’re either worried I’m gonna get hurt or that Mom and Dad won’t let me go,” I assumed, and after he gave it a bit of thought, he held up both stubby hands, so… primarily the second option.

“Then we’re in agreement there… but Mr. Osco made a good point, I have to stand up for myself for this one, otherwise I’ll just prove I’m not ready in the first place,” I said, and Denis nodded again, a little more subtly this time. Perhaps that first guess wasn’t exactly incorrect either…


Was I worried about him? Of course! Look, I don’t want to be some kind of overprotective sibling or whatever, but you have to remember our situation. The one experience I had with going off on a solo venture ended up killing me in a very painful fashion, and I’d nearly seen the same fate befall Tristan as well. I may not be the worldliest Phantump, but I know for sure that one murderous psycho with a giant killer gourd did not encompass the entirety of evil in our world. There are dangers just as great if not far greater just waiting to be stumbled upon, and there’s no guarantee Tristan will get a second go at it the way I did if the worst comes to pass. But all the same, that wasn’t going to have me try and hold him back. If this dream business really is connected to what eventually brought him to finding me, then it’s nothing to just ignore, and yeah, there are dangers out there, but I was supposed to help fight them off. Quagsire and I had made a good team when the chips were down, we could do it again, surely… but I wasn’t the one that needed convincing, our parents were the real issue.

How do I explain Mom and Dad’s behavior properly… As caretakers they’re fantastic, no doubt, but the problem is they’re… paranoid at times. It was already iffy before my initial demise, and from how I understand it, they clamped down hard on the restrictions afterwards. Even with my return they don’t exactly come off as any definition of lax. Funny thing is that we had free reign to travel through a city as massive as Lumiose, they only seemed to ever really get worried if we passed by the city limits… I mean, I get it, compared to other big cities, we don’t experience any real degree of crime wave, but a big city is still plenty dangerous for a child… I never entirely got it, maybe it’s just because they can track us down more easily within the borders, but, bringing this all back to the topic at hand, it was going to be a challenge to get their approval for this trek.

Difficult a task as it was almost certainly going to be, my little bro wasn’t going to back down. That would serve him well; a lack of timidity, some confidence… that goes a long way, I learned from experience that much. Once we got home, he didn’t waste any time, calling both Mom and Dad over to discuss it with them, and fortunately it was at a time when they were both at home anyways. The initial reaction? About what you’d expect from how we’ve built them up…

“No… no, don’t be silly Tristan, going all the way to Geosenge with winter coming up? Just… out of the question,” Mom said, using those old standby remarks that a parent might go for to try and shut a debate down early. Dad’s one contribution to that was a stern shake of the head in denial.

Tristan wasn’t taking that lying down though. Whatever that therapist of his said, it seemed to trigger something once he got that expected ‘no’.

“Mom, Dad, in a couple years I’m going to legally be an adult, it’s coming up, fast, and I haven’t stepped any more than a kilometer outside of this city… We’re at the back-end of my second decade on this planet, and this has been the only place I’ve really known all that time! There are 10-year-olds who are going out there with more experience than I have, and from what I understand they’re managing just fine! I can’t stay sheltered like this forever… I know you’re afraid… you don’t think I’m not a little nervous myself? I wasn’t exactly an infant when we lost Denis, who, let’s not forget, didn’t exactly venture far that night. Danger is everywhere, in the city or out, but you have to trust me just a little… trust that by now I can figure it out, that I’m not just going out there alone either, I’ve got Quagsire, and Denis is gonna be there for me too. I’m not helpless, stop treating me like I am!” He looked pretty thoroughly out of breath once he finished his mini-filibuster, and it did leave our folks looking speechless for a moment… not in the sense that what he said was shocking them, no… I think it was more that they knew all that he said already, but they just had difficulty facing those facts up front.

How long was the silence hanging over the four of us at that moment… I tell you it felt like a good half hour went by before it was broken.

“Get a voltage badge,” Dad said to finally break the excruciating pause. He was met with a resounding “What?” from the rest of us… (Okay, so, maybe I didn’t exactly say ‘what’ if you wanna be nitpicky, but I said the Phantump equivalent, I can assure you)

“Get a voltage badge,” he repeated. “That boy Clemont, he’s a professional. If you can beat whatever challenge he lays out for you, then we’ll know without a shadow of a doubt how serious you are about this.”

“Hector…” Mom sounded like she wanted to intervene, but to her credit, she seemed to realize any protest would’ve been lacking in much rationality, and though she obviously didn’t relish the idea, she relented and nodded her agreement to the proposition being set up by Dad.

“Well… okay, if that’s what it takes, I’ll do it… but is it that simple? Don’t you have to be registered before you can start collecting badges or something?” Tristan asked, sounding… excitedly nervous, for lack of a better description.

“Only if you’re planning to apply for the championship. Some gym leaders might be a bit stingier, but most of them are more than happy to accept the challenge of whoever steps up. Clemont’s always struck me as one of those. Think I recall him saying it’s a chance to learn something new each time.”

“Right… Then I guess I know what I’ve gotta do,” Tristan said at that, motioning for me to follow as he walked out of the house, and I went to pursue as requested. I took another look at Mom and Dad before phasing through the front door… They didn’t need to say anything to convey just how much my own circumstances were making this matter so difficult for them. I didn’t know if I felt it warranted some kind of apology… For once, I was glad I couldn’t speak in a way they’d understand.

For any city that has an officially League-affiliated Pokemon gym in their community, that gym tends to be the crown jewel of the place. Even kids who were shut-ins all their lives like Tristan and myself knew that much, and when you lived in Lumiose, you understood exactly why that was the case. It’s tough to miss the significance of a place when it quite literally towers over all. It’s significant enough that it’s got another name tagged onto it, Tour Prismatique, or the Prism Tower. If Kalos were to have one iconic landmark, our gym is definitely in the running for that title.

Something else to know about the Prism Tower though… it’s something of a technological marvel as well, this sleek building of chrome and glass, a futuristic beacon, perpetually shining a bright light in the midst of serene parks and quaint, old-fashioned structures. It’s the kind of place that you look at and think some combination of “That electric bill’s gotta be a nightmare,” and “Oh, that explains the tax hike.”

The gym’s high-tech appearance, naturally, has much to do with its primary occupant, Clemont. Guy’s a genius beyond comparison, loves to tinker with all sorts of things, being the inventor-type. I bring this up because it can kinda help explain his tendency to be more lenient on matters as Dad mentioned. Clemont’s personality means he’s all for taking the road that best leads to a learning experience. Being a gym leader and therefore almost certainly some degree of Pokemon enthusiast, any chance to take on new challengers is as good a learning experience as one could ask for. Getting the battle would be easy. It was winning that made matters a lot more doubtful.

We didn’t exactly head straight for the gym upon walking out the door, there was a sort of silent understanding between the two of us that we needed to get a little more conventional training in before that was feasible. I must have looked pretty conflicted though because after a moment he fished out a notepad and pencil from his pocket and handed it to me. Even if I didn’t have any specific words to say beforehand, I figured I’d jot something down just to keep from having too many thoughts bottled up.

‘He’ll probably take it easy on you.’

“I know…” Tristan said with a nod. “Doesn’t mean he’s going to just sit back and let us win either. A gym leader’s got dignity; skill handicaps or otherwise, he’s still gonna make it a challenge for us.”

‘You’ve been training every Summer for years now, right? You’ve never faced him before?’

“Nope… I mean, partly that comes from thinking I had to actually be registered in the League first… but Quagsire and I had enough trouble with roaming trainers… Felt like an actual Gym battle would just be an embarrassing mistake.”

Man… as if I needed any more proof my little brother had some problems with his self-esteem.

‘Doubt some of those guys played fair. Clemont will give you a sporting chance. I’ve seen Quagsire in action, he’s more than capable.’

“Maybe… but the question is, do you think you’re up for it?”

Okay… fair point. I may have done a lot of the fighting when we were taking down that killer, but, when I wasn’t under immense duress and facing a do-or-die situation, could I be so fortunate?

‘I have to be,’ was all I wrote in reply, and that’s just how I saw it. I couldn’t fail, Tristan was getting haunted by more of those dreams. Even if they weren’t playing on repeat, I knew the memory alone, combined with another couple of years stuck in the same place would be absolutely soul-draining for him.

From there we began a rigorous training session, mostly consisting of me trying to recollect attacks I’d used in the Gourgeist affair, and whilst I could manage a poison jab, an energy ball or a dark pulse without too much effort, phantom force was a lot more on the tricky side. You’d think vanishing and reappearing to strike unpredictably would be easy for a ghost; not the case for me I’m afraid. Disappearing and reappearing? Simple. Attacking? Fairly simple as well. Both at once? Now you were suddenly making things complicated. I was used to a more passive sort of thing, phasing back into the physical plane. Phantom force required a lot more aggressive tactics… but it was also my ace in the hole as a ghost type… There would be circumstances where that move could very well be the difference maker.

I just wasn’t getting it to work against static targets, so, Tristan, having already sent out Quagsire to practice as well, let him have a chat with me about it, just to see if it would help matters.

“I just don’t get how I did it in the first place,” I told him after another failed go at it.

“Maybe you’re thinking about it too much?” he inquired.

“Overthinking it? Something that simple?” I asked, obviously a little on the doubtful side.

“Sure. I mean… hey, I know I’m not some big-brained genius, and I really don’t wanna be, ‘cause when I think about a problem for too long it just leads to a big headache. Maybe you just gotta… you know… go for it, don’t strain yourself to will it, just make it happen. It’s what I do, maybe it can work for you too.”

Tristan’s Quagsire is, no doubt, a simple sort, but, there’s a wisdom to that simplicity. My mind does tend to race at a mile a minute when I try to manifest these attacks. With my human memories all back in place, it’s tough not to think about just how surreal it is to have these powers when my limits used to be deep in the pit of mundanity.

From there I tried to ease my mind, doing my best to make these abilities feel much more like second nature, not something I had to ‘activate’. We kept at this for a few days; sometimes Quagsire and I would have sparring matches, and even under practicing circumstances, he’s no slouch. I say this, even while I have a pretty sizable advantage in the type department, which should say something about Tristan’s training competency despite what he might tell you. He can downplay it all he wants, but getting such a carefree sort, and the first Pokemon one’s ever trained at that, to shoot an ice beam as fast as he could, or evade a cluster of magic leaves like he was practicing for a dance recital? That speaks for itself. It enticed me to work hard to keep up, and I could definitely feel everything start to click into place as we kept at the sessions, all while the Prism Tower perpetually loomed over us, the ever-present reminder of what we were working to undertake.


There was definitely some discomfort in actually ordering Denis around the conventional way a trainer would at the start. It’s not simply the fact that he was once a human, that wouldn’t be a problem in itself, seeing how that’s just what coaches do to train their players all the time. The issue stemmed more from the fact that, even if we hadn’t seen each other for a majority of years, he was still very much my older brother, and it’s not a common thing to be in a position where you constantly tell an older sibling what to do and expect them to do it. Some would see it as a power trip I’m sure, but… eh… I couldn’t see it that way… If anything, it was the opposite and I was worrying far too much about sounding terribly bossy. Now, fortunately, I got over the feeling once I settled into the idea that it was a co-dependent effort. Beyond the obvious point that he had to do the fighting and I needed to issue the commands on the fly, the fact that I was thinking up what to do left his mind open to simply act on reflex. It left his mind less cluttered… or at least that was the aim.

Truth be told, it was pretty obvious for a while that Denis was letting his thoughts get in the way of acting as quickly as he could in fighting circumstances. Quagsire had hit him with just a few too many ice beams for comfort one day, which only proved that point. After making sure he got healed up properly, I figured I’d let them talk it over a little. Couldn’t help to have a perspective from another Pokemon, namely one who’s only known the feeling of being a Pokemon and little else.

Now, Denis tells me Quagsire spoke of ‘not overthinking it,’ and ‘just making it happen,’ which I’ll admit is kinda simplistic advice akin to saying ‘just do the thing but better’… but, far be it from me to argue with results, because it seemed to work out pretty nicely. Despite a few moves still being a bit difficult for him to pull off, Denis was acting much quicker, and he was able to keep up with Quagsire a lot more efficiently. By the week’s end, I figured we were ready to give it a shot. It was one of those situations where I didn’t entirely believe it, and doubt was still casting its shadow, but I also knew that by this point, the longer I waited, the more hesitant and less confident I’d probably get. I couldn’t back out now. We’d all worked too hard for that.

That night I planned our visit to the gym the next morning. I wanted to really bank on establishing a ‘failure’s not an option’ mentality, so I packed all my things for the subsequent trip immediately afterwards. As soon as I got that badge, we were going to be out of there. I was nervous though, there was still that ringing voice in my head saying I wasn’t ready… It stayed with me all the way to the moment I willed myself to sleep. Overnight, the dream I still remembered so vividly finally replayed in my subconsciousness, playing out exactly the same way it had before.

That voice of uncertainty kept its mouth shut from that point on.


The day came and we were standing at the gym’s entrance. Quagsire was kept in his Pokeball for the time being, whilst I was, as usual, simply floating beside Tristan. After we both took a breath in an effort to calm ourselves just a bit, we made our way inside. Glowing tiles guided our way to an elevator at the center of the ground floor, obligatory signs beside it designated this was indeed the Lumiose Gym, led by Clemont, as if anyone who’d proceeded this far didn’t already know that.

Each floor offered a choice of three elevators, offering a rather simple Pokemon Identification question for each to select the right way to the next level. Rumor has it they occasionally have trainers waiting to challenge you within each elevator before you can even see if you chose correctly, but thankfully, if this claim has some truth to it, they weren’t doing that today, and soon enough we were at the top floor. Awaiting us was a young man with bright blonde hair in a light blue mechanic’s jumpsuit, wearing glasses so reflective that one could barely see his eyes behind them.

The gym leader, considered a boy genius in his earlier years on the job, sized us up for a moment. We didn’t expect him to recognize us. Locals though we were, Lumiose is a little too big to know the names of all your neighbors. That said, he did seem to eye Tristan with a slight sense of familiarity.

“Ah, you’re that kid who only ever seems to do any training in the Summer months. Surprising to see you finally decided to challenge me at this time of year,” he said with a cheerful grin. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I take it you don’t have any badges to your name yet?”

Tristan nodded. “Yeah… this is my first go at it. Hope that’s okay?” he asked, suddenly sounding resoundingly sheepish despite Clemont’s friendly demeanor.

“Of course it is! This gym takes all challengers, it’s just important to know what your level of experience is. Helps keep things from getting too discouraging for you and all,” he replied, a large mechanical arm with a gloved hand suddenly jutting out of his backpack, stretching out to a dark spot away from the otherwise luminous room. Two Pokeballs were brought back, Clemont taking one of them. “Two Pokemon ought to be sufficient. Are you ready?”

“Yep, as I’ll ever be at least,” Tristan answered, the Pokeball for Quagsire at the ready.

“Then let us begin,” Clemont said, and in an instant, the first two combatants were released, Quagsire on our side, and a Magneton as our first opponent.

A Pokemon battle, even the simplest ones amongst the most inexperienced of amateurs, is pretty difficult to do any justice describing in words alone, and I’m not anything close to a poet myself, but I’ll do what I can to describe just how things played out. Quagsire, being part ground type, already nullified the Magneton’s electric arsenal, leaving it to focus on a series of physical attacks. It was almost mesmerizing, the way the magnetic Pokemon seemed to so easily split into three separate Magnemite and swarm at Quagsire from all directions. That’s the danger of a powerful Magneton, it forces you to fight three for one, and completely legally too.

Quagsire, if he was actually deterred or nervous at the time, as usual, didn’t show it much, and he made an impressive effort dodging the lunging attacks of those living magnetic projectiles. Tristan had him punish each miss with a close-proximity mud shot, nothing too powerful on its own, but to a creature of steel and electricity? I could tell it stung a lot more. Quagsire did have more powerful ground-type moves as well, but, he simply didn’t have enough time to use anything that packed more punch, his opponent moved too fast.

It was the old ‘by a thousand cuts’ routine that Tristan ultimately resorted to. Quagsire would get close to one of Magneton’s segments, fire a blast of mud shot, attempt to dodge the inevitable retaliation, rinse repeat. It was by no means a flawless execution, occasionally Clemont would call for a supersonic attack and those disorienting soundwaves left Quagsire completely open to a flurry of tackles and magnet bombs, but by the circumstances of this showdown it didn’t matter, he still had the upper hand, the hits just weren’t wearing him down as quickly as his foe. Soon enough the Magneton was forced to reattach as a single entity, but it was right at the verge of collapse, and it didn’t seem to have any juice left to retaliate. One single well-placed slam and it was down for the count.

“A more-than-likely outcome, but impressive start all the same,” Clemont said after complimenting his Pokemon for its efforts and returning it to its Pokeball. It was pretty clear he wasn’t giving us his absolute best, but then, I’m assuming it’s part of the job as a gym leader to play to a level based on the experience of the challenger. “You’ve certainly got type advantage helping you out, but let’s see how far that’ll carry you.” With that, Clemont released his second Pokemon. A black and yellow lizard creature with orange markings on its frills, legs and tail emerged, said frill suddenly opening up, the creature manifesting a great deal of electricity around it as it got in its battle stance. The generator Pokemon, Heliolisk, as almost any Kalos native could decipher pretty quickly with those notable features.

“Alright, Quagsire, you good for one more?” Tristan asked, getting a nod and a simple “yes” in response, or, probably more of a “‘Sire” sound, Pokemon-speak and all that. I don’t think he heard the breathiness in Quagsire’s answer though, the guy was clearly a bit winded. Magneton may’ve had very little chance of winning that bout but it made him work for it, now he was going into this next round with a lot less energy in the bank.

Clemont was fast to call the first move here, calling for a low kick, which his Heliolisk responded to with some insane reflexes, moving in a near-blur to get near Quagsire, sweeping his leg downward and sending our poor water fish pal crashing to the ground before he could react.

“Mega kick!” Tristan shouted, noting the position in which Quagsire had fallen, feet facing his foe. He pushed himself forward with his arms, gaining some impressive air as his mega kick took on more the form of a drop kick, Heliolisk rolling back from the impact.

Tristan definitely wanted to keep the momentum going I think, so he called for Quagsire to try another one before Heliolisk could retaliate. Quagsire ran forward to do so, but unfortunately, none of us heard Clemont call out his move at that exact same moment, leaving us unaware of the large vine suddenly wrapping itself around Quagsire’s leg before it was far too late to try and avoid it. Grassknot… much like lowkick, a move that did a lot of damage for heavyset fighters, and Quagsire was no lightweight… but this was worse, this was the grass-type variant of that move…

The vine tightened and pulled Quagsire back in one swift motion, the light panels underneath him cracking from the impact as he toppled back headfirst. He let out a painful yelp, and that was about all the strength he had left in him to use. Tristan called him back, leaving both parties now with one active Pokemon left. He turned to me, nodded and pointed toward the battlefield.

“Okay, Denis, you’re up! Let’s finish this!” he shouted, looking to provide that encouraging spark for the both of us. Still, can’t lie I was nervous as hell floating my way over to face off with that electric lizard. This was it… official Pokemon battle debut, I’ve dreamed of this kind of moment happening for a long time… I just really didn’t see it panning out with me actually doing the fighting part.

Clemont seemed to readjust his glasses with a thoughtful look before calling for his Heliolisk to attack with a fire punch. Flames suddenly surrounded both of the lizard’s closed fists as he charged toward me. I could feel the searing heat of the fire attack once he got within arm’s reach, and I moved to swerve out of the way of each successive punch. Up, left, right, down, the Heliolisk wouldn’t relent its strike from every possible direction, but I was able to narrowly avoid this onslaught, launching myself up into the air with that last miss, and immediately hearing Tristan call for a bulldoze attack as I floated above my opponent. Headfirst I flew back down, Heliolisk managing to get out of the way of a direct hit, but my impact with the ground forced him to lose his footing.

“Probably not too happy about that electric half of yours right about now, huh?” I quipped, perhaps getting just a bit too caught up in the competitive nature of the moment.

“Ugh… Cocky little sprig,” he hissed back at me. “You think I’ve been taking this seriously yet? Well if that’s what you want, we’ll oblige.”

“Beg your pardon if I can’t tell the difference,” I shot back, and I immediately regretted doing so as a fire punch suddenly made contact with my face at the end of my sentence. Let me tell you, as a human, fire was painful enough, but when you’re part grass? Every small ember feels like a damned inferno. I could hear myself screaming in anguish as I was launched back, shaking my head vicious to try and quell and flames on me, but I didn’t have any time, I was right back on the defensive as Heliolisk kept punching. Another one of those and I’d be done for. Where was this speed coming from?! Even as I tried to fly up and away from danger this lizard would launch himself up with his tail to meet me and I’d have to dive right back down. Tristan was struggling to find enough time to actually call an attack for me that I’d be able to actually carry out before getting another flaming fist to the noggin.

To buy us some time I generated a barrier of Protect, but I knew that shield was running on limited time, we had to figure out something quick, something that could throw off the Generator Pokemon once more so I could get back on the offensive.

My shield was fading, Heliolisk was about to break through. I turned to Tristan and he made a motion with his hands in a sort of peek-a-boo fashion… I knew what that inferred, phantom force, that move I was having all that trouble with before… but this was the ideal time to put it to use. I only had seconds left before my barrier vanished, I tried to remember what Quagsire had told me… not to think about it, just do it… I couldn’t fret about it… just needed to make it second nature… I remembered how I used it back in the forest against that Gourgeist, I hadn’t been thinking about it then either… and much like then, Tirstan was depending on me. I did what I could to conjure up how I felt at that moment.

The shield gave way…

Heliolisk gave one last punch…

He was too late.

In a ghostly void I saw my target, swooping up to him and delivering a ghostly haymaker down his snout. Or at least that was the intention... Unfortunately, in the heat of the moment, it seemed both Tristan and I had forgotten that Heliolisk was part normal type... I could feel my eyes bugging out in shock at my punch phasing completely through my opponent harmlessly, but couldn't hesitate for too long. We still had the advantage of surprising him for at least a half-second more... I could hear Tristan begin to shout his command just as Clemont did the same...

“Bulldoze!” Tristan shouted, and this time, I made my mark directly. I was just that split-second quicker on the draw, sending Heliolisk down to the floor before he could get his own attack in. Clemont tried to turn the tide back in their favor with a call for a brutal swing, but Heliolisk’s clumsy lunge was met with another vanishing act, an intentional whiff, and a quick accompanying bulldoze as the real attack. It was around here when I started to feel this immense drive, this feeling of momentum, and I wasn’t going to lose it. A few more instances of this move-combo I'd set up, and our opponent was near punch-drunk. Tristan shouted for me to dig, and I drilled my way into the light panels beneath me like they were soil. Heliolisk stumbled about to try and find me, I could tell from the cluttered pitter-pattering above me that he was completely out of it. I just needed to make this last strike count…

I pinpointed the pattering sounds as they came to a stop… and launched myself up, my treestump of a head ramming Heliolisk and launching him into the ceiling above us. By the time he landed, he didn’t bother to get back up.

“…Well played… twiggy…” he grumbled at me in resignation before Clemont called him back to his Pokeball.

“A very informative finish indeed,” Clemont said as he clapped his hands in congratulatory applause. “For a team without any badges you show some promise, and as I like to say, to the victor, go the spoils! You’ve certainly earned a voltage badge.” Reaching into his pocket he fished out the badge and, tossing it to the mechanical gloved hand still jutting out of his backpack, the arm extended out towards Tristan, dropping the badge into his waiting grasp. We both merely stared at the symbol of our victory… To say we were elated by what this ultimately meant would be selling the feeling short.

Tristan eagerly thanked the gym leader before running off gleefully toward the elevator down. I figured I’d simply float down to meet him there, giving one last wave to Clemont who seemed to give a kind of knowing glance and nod at me… and I mean, I don’t know… perhaps that was just to acknowledge my gesture of farewell, but gym leaders tend to be pretty major Pokemon experts, at least when it comes to those in their respective regions… Perhaps in some ambiguous way he was aware of what I was… but I could just be looking too much into it…


I’m still feeling the thrill of that win as I recall this whole thing… But then I guess it hasn’t been very long since it happened. Still, it feels like that battle had happened mere seconds ago, the excitement just hasn’t dissipated in the least.

As we returned home to show my folks the badge, there was a sort of bittersweet feeling to it… I think they knew I could handle myself, but I think they were still worried sick about what was going to happen to me. I promised them I’d be alright though, and by then I truly believed it myself, and I think they picked up on that, because they didn’t make any attempts to stop me as I grabbed all my packed things and got ready to head out. One last hug between the four of us, somewhat teary farewells exchanged, and (barring one vital detour to the Pokemon center) we were off… and I guess that all leads us to the present moment.

We’ve been traveling for a couple days now… Just spent a night at a hotel in Coumarine city, a pleasant little town with a breathtaking cliffside. Probably won’t be sleeping in a bed for a while from here on in, so it was nice to really take in that luxury one more time before we really start to rough it. From what my map’s saying we’re about halfway to Geosenge. I can’t lie… I’m still pretty nervous about just what we’re going to find there. Whoever this fallen warrior is… if this dream is anything like the last, I just don’t think this’ll be something so simple as a ghostly meet and greet. Just one too many mysteries I’ve got myself wrapped up in… After all, I’m still at a loss for just who or what is behind these dreams in the first place. Will I ever get a chance to figure that one out? I really do hope so… the whole thing leaves me feeling uncertain that these dreams will end anytime soon… let alone that they’ll be any easier to deal with. A fight for a badge is all well and good… but I just have a feeling… like we’re going to be dealing with much more dire consequences again. Something’s waiting for us in Geosenge, that ancient battleground that brought death the likes of which this region has never seen before or since. What sits beneath that quiet town is a massive ancient graveyard, and any number of those spirits might have never decided to leave… or perhaps they never had the choice.

A Voice of What’s to Come

I’m a soldier… I was a soldier. I was ready to face death, that was what I was told. I was also told I would not walk down this path in solitude. With my allies, I would never fight in isolation, and when my time came, and fate inevitably took me, I would not be alone. I would never be alone.

They were wrong.

They are dead.

I am dead…

And I am very much alone.
  1. Psycho Monkey
    Psycho Monkey
    Works for me! And no problem! :)
    Jan 23, 2020
    Mr.RMA likes this.
  2. Mr.RMA
    Gah, you're right... Surprised I completely forgot that little tidbit... Phantom Force would indeed be completely ineffective. Thanks for pointing that out! I've done a quick edit to that part to try to work around that, hopefully in a way that seems feasible. |'D
    Thanks for the feedback P_M!
    Jan 23, 2020
    Psycho Monkey likes this.
  3. Psycho Monkey
    Psycho Monkey
    I finally found the time to read this and you certainly didn't disappoint! Great job as always RMA! ^^ The first chapter was already an excellent read when I assumed it to be a one-shot so to see it become a series is a welcome surprise. I look forward to seeing how Tristan and Dennis solve the soldier's case along with any other future ghosts they find themselves helping. I can already tell their story isn't just going to end with the soldier.

    One nitpick I have with this chapter comes from the battle with Clemont. Heliolisk is part Normal-type making it immune to Ghost-type attacks like Phantom Force. ;p Other than that oversight, the battle was well fought.
    Jan 23, 2020
    Mr.RMA likes this.