The air in the Coronet Highlands felt sharp and cold, cutting deep like glass.
I was ten years old, and the world had narrowed down to the sound of my own ragged breathing—and the high keening whistle of death screaming behind me.
I didn't need to look back.
The Alpha Garchomp was there.
Every few seconds, a jagged fin tore through the stone pillars around me as if they were parchment, sending a rain of dust and shrapnel spraying across my back. One struck my shoulder—I stumbled, nearly falling—but I forced my body forward.
Run.
'But it hurts so much…'
Just keep moving.
I squeezed through a narrow crevice, granite ripping at my skin, the cold of the stone stealing what little warmth I had left. For a heartbeat, I thought I'd lost it.
Then the wind screamed louder.
It was gaining.
The path vanished.
I skidded to a halt at the edge of a sheer drop—nothing but a wall of ashen rock and churning mist below. A dead end.
My heart slammed against my ribs as I turned.
It landed.
The mountain groaned beneath its weight. Stone fractured. Dust and debris burst outward in a violent ring.
Glowing red eyes locked onto me. Its golden pupils narrowed into slits as it focused on my scrawny form. Its jaws opened. Violet flame bled from between its teeth.
The world seemed to hold its breath—
—and then it cracked.
A jagged rift of violet light tore open the space between us, splitting the very air itself. It swallowed the light around it, twisting it into something wrong. Unnatural. Anything that touched it… didn't come back.
But I didn't hesitate.
Behind me was certainty.
Ahead of me was a chance.
And that was enough.
I ran.
My feet slipped on loose gravel as I threw myself toward the tear in reality. The air warped, clawing at my clothes, my skin—like the world itself was trying to rip me apart.
The Garchomp shrieked—a sound that rattled my very soul—as its wings snapped shut and its body dropped low. In an instant, it launched forward, tearing across the ground in a blur of blue scales and fury to intercept my path.
It didn't care about the rift.
It only cared about its prey.
Me.
It was faster.
The distance collapsed in an instant.
Closer—
Closer—
Time slowed.
And suddenly—it was right in front of me.
I saw every detail—the serrated edges of its teeth, the crimson hunger in its eyes, the shadows stretching around me. I could feel the fire of its breath as it surged forward—
past the rift—
toward me—
Its jaws snapped shut—
—and missed.
The rift swallowed me whole.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — —— —
"Ugh!"
I hit the ground hard. Mud splashed up around me as the impact tore the air from my lungs. For a moment, I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.
Then instinct dragged me upright. I staggered to my feet, gasping, eyes darting wildly.
The world was… wrong.
The sky was a kaleidoscope of inky void and fractured rainbow, streaks of color bleeding through like cracks in reality. White lightning flickered soundlessly across the void above. The air reeked of ozone. And something worse.
But I didn't run.
I couldn't.
Because I saw it.
Ten steps ahead, half-buried in cracked earth, was the only thing in inside this space, hidden away from the world that felt… real.
A blade.
A katana, worn and unremarkable at first glance. No glow. No divine aura. Just dull grey steel and a hilt wrapped in frayed blue cloth, like something long forgotten.
Abandoned.
Waiting.
My legs trembled as I stepped forward. Lightning flashed around me, the ground shifting with each pulse of energy—but my gaze never left the sword.
It felt… familiar. Like something I had lost.
Or something that had lost me.
I stopped just in front of it. My hand hovered over the hilt. For a moment, everything went silent.
Then I reached out—and closed my fingers around it.
The world stilled.
A single blue eye opened on the crossguard.
It blinked once—slow, heavy, like something stirring from a long, forgotten sleep. Then it stilled.
Watching.
Recognizing.
The Honedge didn't resist.
It didn't drain my life.
It didn't fight.
It simply… awakened.
A low, spectral hum spread through my body, resonating deep in my bones—as if it had been waiting for this moment…
For me—
—for a very long time.