The city was quiet tonight.
The kind of eerie quiet that made such things like a ringing in your ears loud, like the world itself had gone still just long enough for something strange to slip in.
Colson walked without direction, letting his feet carry him through the trees lining the edge of Adelaide. He should've turned back half an hour ago, but his thoughts were too heavy, too scattered to settle.
The simple stress of University and juggling his job at Nando's started to take a toll on him. Obviously, it wasn't the worst situation in the world, he wasn't an engineer and could eat comfortably. But his procrastinating attitude, bursts of productivity and eerily calm attitude didn't get him many friends.
Not shy to make friends, but due to the commuting time always went home after sessions.
This time walking home, he felt a small tug in his head. A low hum beneath the skin, like gravity pulling in the wrong direction.
Eventually, the dirt path beneath his sneakers curved into a dense forest clearing.
At the far end of the path stood a tall iron fence, and behind it, a mansion stretched out in the shadows. Its windows glowed faintly with golden light. It didn't feel like a place most people were supposed to see — let alone enter.
It was one of those old, luxurious mansions in the city that wasn't touched much. But people still clearly lived there. A luxury someone like Coulson could only envy as he saw it.
But what caught his attention wasn't the building.
It was the puddle.
Nestled in the dip between two smooth stones, the rainwater reflected the moon perfectly. Colson stepped forward, his chest tightening. He looked down.
His reflection looked back.
Then blinked.
He frowned. Something was… off.
Clenching his chest, his heartbeat was rapidly increasing. Like some anxiety after seeing how much time you have left to study for tomorrow's exam.
And then it wasn't his face at all.
A child, maybe six was in front of him.
Wild crimson hair. Dark eyes. Thin frame and is very pale. He looked extremely... Familiar?
The child's mouth didn't move when he did.
And in the space of a heartbeat, Colson felt the world tilt — not physically, but deeper. Like a floor had been ripped out from under his soul.
The puddle shimmered.
His vision went white.
Colson awoke lying on cool stone. The scent of pine needles and earth clung to his skin. His heart raced like he'd just run a mile barefoot.
He sat up with a gasp and then immediately froze.
His hands weren't right. Smaller. Pale. The sleeves of his shirt fell over his wrists, too large, too stiff. He touched his face. No stubble. His hair — it was soft, lighter, brushing just over his eyes.
He turned to the puddle again.
The child stared back.
Not just any child.
Silver.
From Pokémon. The rival from Johto. Cold, fierce, sharp as a blade. But this wasn't the teenager from the games. This was a six-year-old version who was still untouched by anger or ambition. Although his goals were never clear from the beginning.
Colson... no, Silver now scrambled back on all fours, chest pounding.
"This isn't possible. This is a dream. It has to be a dream." He whispers in a hoarse childish voice.
But the chill in the night air, the soreness all over his body, the cloth touching his skin… it was all real.
He was in Silver's body.
In the Pokémon world.
And from the look of it, outside Giovanni's estate.
But it looked extremely similar to the place he was next to at the puddle. How the tables have turned. Some memories of Giovanni being a very busy father who never visited much entered his mind.
He turned toward the mansion. The fence towered over him with his measly 106cm height.
For a long moment, he sat frozen in the grass. His thoughts scrambled across memories, not just of games and shows, but of his past. Pokémon cards are traded during lunch. Hours spent soft resetting for a shiny. Team comps drawn up for tournaments he never actually entered.
His favourite Pokemon, are Volcarona and Hydreigon.
It was all possible now...
This wasn't just fiction to him.
This was stitched into who he was. Some said his entire personality somewhat hinged on Pokemon which in some sense it did sometimes.
A crack of light spilled from the mansion's main entrance.
Silver flinched, trying to scramble to his feet. His legs were awkward. Too short. His balance is off. He definitely was going to hit the gym when he was physically able to, or a sport at least.
From the warm light emerged a figure which was not Giovanni, but a woman in her mid-thirties. She wore a black dress with crimson trim, and her hair was tied up in a neat bun. A small pendant with the Rocket "R" gleamed at her throat.
She spotted him immediately.
"There you are," she said, not surprised but only exasperated. "Silver, you slipped past the gate again."
Her tone was neutral and not warm, well-practiced which seemed like a normal customer service voice.
Silver didn't respond right away.
The woman crouched down, brushing dust off his shoulders. "Honestly. You know Master Giovanni doesn't like you wandering after dark. You'll catch a cold."
Silver blinked. "Who… are you?"
Her hands paused.
"I'm Clara," she said slowly. "Your caretaker. You really don't remember?"
He shook his head.
A soft sigh escaped her lips. "Another one of your moods, I see. That bump on your head earlier must've been worse than we thought."
Clara stood and offered her hand. "Come on. Inside. Before the guards think you've been kidnapped."
He hesitated, then took it.
Her grip was gentle, but firm.
Not like a nurse, more like someone trained for fieldwork who'd been reassigned to babysitting. Her hands were rough and seemed to be trained in some sort of physical way.
Inside, the mansion was enormous. High ceilings. Black marble tile with red veins. Expensive vases lined the walls, and statues of ancient Pokémon posed between doors. Silver couldn't help but gawk. It looked like a blend between a historical museum and a corporate headquarters.
She quickly explained his family situation a bit. With his mother being unknown and his only family being Giovanni.
"Where's father?" he asked, unsure how else to test the waters.
"Master Giovanni is in Goldenrod City for a gym leader summit," Clara said simply. "He's been busy with gym duties as the representative of Kanto."
She glanced down at him as they walked. "He'll be home in a several weeks. You'll have to behave until then."
Silver said nothing.
He was an indoor guy at heart. There wasn't much that could get him to leave the house anyway with such luxury.
Besides Pokemon of course...
Eventually, she led him into a side room — a smaller study with soft chairs and a low fireplace. A thick blanket was already folded on the couch.
"Here," she said. "You like it in this room. You usually bring books in from the main library and pretend you're reading."
"Pretend?"
Clara gave him a side-eye. "Don't act innocent. You can barely sit still for five minutes at that desk. I know when you're just flipping pages."
Silver allowed a small, involuntary smile. It surprised even him.
Maybe this wasn't so bad.
"Is there… anything else I usually do?"
Clara tilted her head. "You mean besides sneaking into the kitchens and interrogating the staff about wild Pokémon habitats?"
He grinned, scratching the back of his.
"Let me guess," he muttered. "I don't get in trouble for that?"
Clara walked to a small drawer, pulled out a packet of warm cookies, and dropped them onto the desk. "Only when you break something."
She gave a tired sigh. "You really don't remember anything?"
Silver hesitated. Then said softly, "Not much."
Clara looked at him — really looked this time. Not suspicious, not harsh. Just a bit… weary.
"You're a smart boy, Silver," she said, her voice lowering. "Too smart for your own good sometimes. If you're pretending because you're upset he's gone again…"
"I'm not."
She nodded once, then turned toward the door.
"Try not to wander tonight," she said over her shoulder. "Remember, no girl likes a boy who talks too much."
She left without waiting for a reply.
The room fell silent again.
Silver stared at the fire, its glow dancing across the polished floor. Outside, a Murkrow cried once in the night. The shadows shifted behind the curtains.
He sat quietly, letting the crackle of fire fill the silence.
This was real.
This was happening.
And the strangest thing?
He didn't want to leave.
While he wasn't completely heartless, at his age he would dream of leaving life. Wanting to go to any world but his own, now with his financial problems secured who wouldn't be extremely grateful.
'I will grab this world by the throat, and become the best.' Excitement went through his veins.
But he will need to know his current authority and placement first. What could he ask for and get away with?
An idea popped into the young man's mind.
Guilt-tripping his father wouldn't be a bad idea. Like catching a certain bug Pokemon to remind him of his past...