[Roar]: A loud cry that drives off wild Pokémon. (In battle, this move forces your opponent to switch out their active Pokémon.)
Overwhelmed by a swirling storm of frustration, embarrassment, rage, and despair—Charmander somehow unlocked a legit Pokémon move: Roar.
That bellow he let out? It had literally scared off every living creature in the area. Pigeons shot into the sky like feathered rockets. Rats scrambled into sewers. Even the cockroaches—Gotham's most resilient residents—fled the scene as if the building was being fumigated.
"Grrah grrah grrah…" (Holy crap—I actually just used a Pokémon move! I can learn moves?! That's awesome—wait, NO, it's not! What use is this move right now?! My house is gone! Where am I even gonna sleep tonight?! A cardboard box?! Do I look like a Mimikyu?!)
Charmander-Max clutched his tiny head with both claws, absolutely spiraling. His tail flame flickered erratically with each wave of panic, casting chaotic shadows across what remained of the apartment walls.
When the dust finally settled, and he looked out at what was left of the place—which resembled the aftermath of three grenades and a rocket launcher—he had to admit…
Charmander's combat power? Yeah, it was insane. One minute he was just standing there, the next—KABOOM! Like Team Rocket's hideout after Pikachu's Thunderbolt.
But no point crying over exploded apartments.
Max's eyes lit up with a spark of hope. He suddenly bolted into the ruins, arms wide, stubby legs sprinting, digging around like a tiny scavenger with purpose. His tail flame provided just enough light to search through the darkened rubble.
He used his claws to toss aside bricks and debris like it was nothing. Under layers of splinters and dust, he finally found it—today's bread haul.
"Grraaa~nahh~~" (Thank Arceus the bread's rock-hard. No way I'm wasting it. I'm a Charmander now, so eating this shouldn't give me food poisoning… probably. If anything, my new digestive system might actually prefer it charred.)
Sure, it was dirty. But hey—he had a Pokémon stomach now. Probably came with a free poison resistance perk or something, like those Poison-type Pokémon that never get sick.
"Grrah…" (Wait a second—what if I just burn off the crust? Char it. Scrape the ashes. Boom. Safe to eat. Like a five-second rule, but with fire!)
The thought of food supercharged his brain cells.
He ran a mental check. No flamethrower yet, but he did remember two specific moves in his skill set: Ember and Smokescreen.
He opened his mouth and puffed a little cloud of smoke onto his paw. Sniffed it.
Smelled like charcoal. And just a hint of gas. Like a tiny BBQ grill warming up.
Charmander's eyes widened—he had an idea.
Charcoal + gas + spark = Flamethrower prototype. It was just basic Pokémon chemistry!
Dark smoke billowed from his mouth, engulfing the bread. The smoke wrapped around the loaf like a ghostly blanket, thick and opaque.
And just as he sprayed, he snapped his jaws—CLACK—tiny teeth smashing together. A spark flew.
BOOM—IGNITION.
Move: Spark – Strike your teeth to ignite.
The crust of the bread blackened instantly, along with the wood chips and dust stuck to it. The flame burst was so sudden that Charmander nearly singed his own eyebrows—if he had any.
With surgical precision, Charmander scraped off the charred shell and devoured it whole.
CRUNCH. CRUNCH.
(Tbh… not bad. Kinda like that fancy artisanal sourdough they sell at Gotham Bread Co. Except, you know, free and covered in plaster dust.)
One after another, he munched through every piece of bread hidden in the ruins. His tiny jaws worked overtime, crumbs falling from his snout with each enthusiastic bite.
A warm, toasted aroma slowly filled the wreckage of what used to be his apartment. It was almost homey, in a post-apocalyptic sort of way.
Then—
"Holy 🦀—WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! THAT WAS MY SAFEHOUSE!!!"
A familiar voice rang out behind him. And based on the tone—yeah. She was pissed. Not just regular pissed. Catwoman-finding-her-diamond-stash-replaced-with-cubic-zirconia pissed.
Charmander froze mid-bite. Tail stiff as a rod. Cold sweat broke out down his scaly back. The bread hanging from his mouth slowly dropped to the ground.
Like a rusty gear grinding to life, his head turned around in slow, agonizing motion.
"Grraah~" (Heyyy… Aunt Selina… fancy seeing you here~ Love what you've done with your hair. Is that a new outfit? Very slimming!)
Selina had spotted the fire-tailed orange lizard from a distance.
At first, she was just curious what it was up to. But the closer she got… the more the horror set in.
Her safehouse?
Gone. Reduced to ashes. Like it had just starred in an action movie explosion scene directed by Michael Bay himself.
The destruction level was so bad, calling it a rocket strike zone might've been an understatement. It looked like a Snorlax had body-slammed the entire structure after eating twenty Explosion TMs.
"Grrah grrah!!" (Aunt Selina, wait, listen! Crap—she can't understand me like this!! Why couldn't I have turned into a Meowth? At least they can talk!)
Of course Selina knew who this oversized gecko was. The green Omnitrix logo still glowed on its tail, pulsing like a radioactive nightlight.
"Speak English. Now." Her voice dropped to a dangerous whisper.
Her teeth clenched. Her voice, cold steel. That safehouse had taken forever to build—and this was Gotham, the worst place on Earth to try building something that doesn't get stolen, burned down, or priced like gold.
Even Catwoman had to work her tail off for that place. Three jewelry store heists and one museum job, to be exact.
"Grrah—" (I'd love to! But Charmander doesn't come with a built-in voice box, alright?! This isn't Pokemon the anime where we all magically speak human!)
Then it hit him—Selina could hit the Omnitrix for him!
Max spun around, lifted his tail, and started urgently pointing at the glowing icon near its base, calling out "grrah grrah!" in a desperate attempt to mime: Press the button! End the transformation! Help a lizard out here!
But from Selina's perspective…
This little lizard was pointing its flaming butt at her and barking like a bratty Pokémon TikToker. Like those videos where pet owners teach their dogs to "talk back."
Disrespect detected.
Her fists clenched. Her eye twitched.
Selina grabbed her whip and snapped it through the air like lightning, aiming straight for Charmander's butt. The leather cut through the air with a menacing whistle.
From Max's perspective, the attack was crystal clear. Time slowed down as his Pokémon reflexes kicked in.
With a quick side step that would make any Pokémon trainer proud, he dodged it clean. The movement was so fluid it felt instinctual, like he'd been battling with this body his entire life.
"Grrah grrah!!" (WHOA WHOA WHOA Aunt Selina, THIS IS A MISUNDERSTANDING! Let's talk this out—no need for violence!! I'm not some wild Rattata you can just whip around!)
CRACK!
The whip slammed into the ruins, shattering bricks and kicking up dust. A small chunk of wall crumbled away like it was made of stale cookies.
Charmander flinched hard.
(Holy crap, that would've HURT. Like, critical-hit-need-a-Potion kind of hurt.)
Max's brain hit emergency overdrive.
"GRRAH GRRAH GRRAHHH!!" (Stop swinging that thing!! Look—see this symbol?! PRESS IT. PLEASE. It's literally glowing green! How are you not getting this?!)
But to Selina, this fiery lizard just kept hopping around and taunting her with its butt like it was saying:
"Nyeh nyeh, can't hit me! Too slow, Catwoman! Maybe if you trained at the Elite Four, you'd have better aim!"
Her last nerve? Gone. Snapped like a twig under Snorlax's foot.
"Okay. That's it. I'm gonna END you." Her eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. "I've skinned bigger lizards than you for my boot collection."
She cracked the whip. Again. And again.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
Each sonic boom echoed off the wreckage. Birds that had cautiously returned to the area scattered once more.
Charmander weaved, ducked, jumped—barely dodging every lash like he was in a Pokémon version of The Matrix. Left, right, backflip, duck, sidestep—his little orange body moving with surprising grace for something with such stubby limbs.
Charmander had just activated Ash Ketchum's ultimate hidden technique:
"Quick, dodge it!"
As long as he stayed laser-focused, that whip wasn't touching him. It was like his body was running on pure instinct—the same instinct that helps wild Pokémon survive battles day after day.
Selina, clearly annoyed at how agile this little lizard was, retracted her whip. Time to take it up close and personal. She still pegged Max's combat level as "easy capture"—like back when she caught that little Meowth.
Except now?
She had claws. Literally. Her gloves were upgraded with metal tips—classic Catwoman style. 🐾 They gleamed in what little light filtered through the dust clouds, wickedly sharp and ready to scratch.
"Come here, you little firecracker," she growled. "I just want to have a little chat with my claws."
Seeing she wasn't gonna back down, Max knew there was no avoiding this anymore.
Time to fight back.
He inhaled sharply—chest expanding like a balloon—and blasted a wave of thick black smoke straight in her face.
Move: Smokescreen – A choking cloud of carbon dust, reducing visibility and screwing with accuracy! Lowers opponent's accuracy stat by -1!
Selina charged in—straight into the smog. But the moment the dark mist hit her face, her sight dimmed, her breath caught.
"Sh*t—smoke bomb?!" She coughed violently, eyes watering instantly. "That's—cough—playing dirty!"
She coughed and immediately started backing out, trying to escape the carbon cloud. Her hands waved frantically in front of her face, trying to clear the air.
But Charmander was already on the move.
He pounced forward—and the second her eyes adjusted, he hit her with another skill:
Scary Face.
A horrifying, soul-jarring grimace full of cursed energy. His face contorted into something straight out of a Gengar's nightmares—eyes bulging, mouth stretched unnaturally wide, teeth gleaming with an otherworldly light.
It hit like a psychic grenade—Selina's brain lagged, her reaction time tanked, and her limbs moved like they were stuck in molasses.
"What the—" she mumbled, suddenly feeling like gravity had doubled around her. "Did you just—slow me down?"
Then—
Boom. Tone shift.
Charmander's face went from demonic horror movie to… sparkly-eyed cuteness overload. The transformation was instantaneous and jarring.
Move: Charm. He fluttered his lashes and gave Selina the most adorable wink ever seen in Gotham. His eyes grew huge and glistening, like some cartoon character begging for treats. His little cheeks puffed out in the most pinchable way.
💘 A pink heart of energy launched straight from his eyes—and hit its target dead-on.
Critical hit.
Selina blinked. Her whole vibe flipped.
Suddenly, this fiery little gremlin… wasn't an enemy.
He was a precious, snuggly, squishy-wishy baby.
"Ohhh, aren't you just the cutest thing ever?!" she cooed, her voice jumping two octaves higher. "Look at those little claws! And that adorable tail flame! Who's a good little fire lizard? You are!"
Charmander froze.
(…What the—?!)
Five seconds ago she was trying to whip his tail off. Now she looked ready to knit him a scarf and take him shopping for tiny sweaters.
(That move is terrifying. One second you're enemies, the next she's ready to adopt me?! Is this a battle move or emotional manipulation?! Does this qualify as mind control? Are Pokémon moves ethical warfare?!)
Still—whatever. It worked.
Charmander took his shot.
"Grrah grrah…" (Hey! Help me out. Smack this logo so I can change back—please! No, not pat my head—the LOGO. Yes, on my tail. That green glowy thing. Hit it like you're hitting a snooze button!)
He pointed frantically to the Omnitrix symbol at the base of his tail, miming a high-five motion like he was playing charades for his life.
Whether it was the lingering Charm effect or just Selina catching on, she actually nodded, like she understood.
"You want me to touch that?" she asked, pointing at the symbol. "Is this some kind of Pokémon evolution thing?"
And casually, with one swift motion—
SMACK.
A red light flashed. Charmander dissolved in a burst of energy—and Max stood there in human form once again. The transformation felt like being pulled through a taffy machine, his body stretching and reforming in an instant.
"Whew... finally back. That stupid watch just taught me a very important lesson—never underestimate any lifeform. Charmander's destruction level? Easily outclasses a husky." He brushed debris from his clothes. "Also, never try to breathe fire indoors. That's just common sense I apparently needed to learn."
He barely had time to breathe before realizing…
Selina was still affected.
Her eyes were all gooey, soft, sparkly. That warm, mushy gaze pierced right into his soul. The Charm effect hadn't worn off with the transformation.
Max's spine shivered.
"Oh no."
Because nothing—and I mean nothing—was creepier than Catwoman making bedroom eyes at a kid she was trying to kill five minutes ago.
"So..." Selina purred, reaching out to pinch his cheek. "Do you want some milk and cookies? Or maybe a new safehouse? I know a place near Crime Alley that would be just perfect for my adorable little nephew..."
Max backed away slowly. "Uh, I think that Charm move was a bit too effective. Maybe I should've gone with Tail Whip instead..."