Pokemon: Divergence Chapter 2

Hi all, 

Here’s the second chapter for the week. 

Chapter 2 - Growing Pains

Dylan sat at the table outside the cafe, flipping through the guidebook the scientist had given him. He paused when he came to the section about Aura techniques. Before he could start reading, a scraping sound caught his attention.

Bruiser had his jaws clamped around the table leg, gnawing at the wood with determined enthusiasm.

"Stop that."

Bruiser paused and barked at him, head jerking towards the cafe.

Even without the Aura Link, Dylan could understand the Houndour’s discontent.

"Yes, I know the server was a dickhead, but that doesn't mean you get to destroy property. I have to pay for that shit, you know."

Bruiser growled.

"Next time, just piss on his leg."

Bruiser looked away, apparently offended by the suggestion.

"Sorry, your majesty."

Dylan shook his head and returned to the guidebook. He'd found out the hard way earlier that Pokemon had to expel their waste. He'd spotted a Rattata squatting on someone's lawn, taking a dump. Dylan had been so startled he'd stopped and stared, mouth hanging open like an idiot. 

To be fair, it wasn't something he'd thought about or had the desire to think about. He had the feeling he would be constantly surprised in the days to come.

Another thought occurred to him. Where had the eggs and bacon he'd eaten come from? Should've asked that before shoving them in his mouth. Tasted real enough, though.

Dylan read through the section on Aura Manipulation. Apparently, it was a key ability you had to learn before you could start learning Aura techniques. It was taught in schools, along with Aura Link. Basic curriculum, like maths or literacy. If only he could sort out his dodgy memory. The information was there, buried somewhere in his head, but accessing it felt like pulling teeth. 

Maybe he just needed to focus.

Dylan placed the book down and closed his eyes. He searched through his memory for the lessons on Aura Manipulation, pushing past the vague impressions and half-formed recollections. It took him a few minutes, but the memories of the lessons and his practising Aura Manipulation appeared in his mind. As soon as he grasped the essential information, he raised his hand, and a blue flame appeared on his palm.

The sensation was strange. It felt warm, like his hand was wrapped in a woollen glove. He manipulated it until it formed into an orb, perfectly spherical, before dismissing it with a thought. The orb winked out.

That was easy. Too easy. How had he forgotten something so simple?

He spent the next few minutes forcing himself to recall Aura Link, dragging the information to the surface.

Dylan wiped his forehead as sweat trickled down his temples. It wasn’t from controlling the Aura—that part had been easy. From searching for the memories. Something was wrong with his head. Had the transition scrambled his brain?

No way to ask Mew about it now. At least he could recall things with enough effort.

"I need to return you to your Pokeball so I can establish a link with you,” Dylan said. 

Bruiser nodded. Dylan grabbed the shrunken Pokeball from his belt and returned him in a flash of red light.

The Pokeball had two indentations on the back. One was meant for technical machines, and the other was designed to channel Aura into the ball. Some techniques, including Aura Link, required the Pokémon to be inside their Pokeballs. 

He pointed his finger, and a beam of Aura shot into the recess. The sensation was immediate—a connection forming, tenuous but present. It took him a moment before he felt a brief impression of acknowledgement inside his mind, although it wasn't too clear. Dylan realised it was Bruiser accepting the link. 

Dylan summoned Bruiser again. "So, now that we can communicate a little better, is there anything you need?"

He grimaced when he was sent an impression of Bruiser rutting on another Houndour and glared at Bruiser. Apparently, Pokémon sex was a thing in this world, and not something he wanted to examine too closely. He'd known that Pokémon had sexual organs—he'd seen enough unfortunate angles when Bruiser scratched himself—but he'd thought there was a more sanitised explanation for how Pokémon came to be. This world was a little too realistic.

Bruiser chuffed, looking amused.

"Wise guy. Unfortunately, I don't think you'll find a female Houndour around these parts. I wonder if there's a Pokémon Tinder in this world?"

Dylan picked up the book and read the section on recommended Aura techniques for new trainers, including the prices. His eyes widened when he saw the costs listed in neat columns beside each technique name. 

This stuff was too expensive. 

He immediately zeroed in on Dimensional Storage, a technique that allowed you to store up to a small-sized room full of things in another dimension. That sounded beyond useful. No more lugging around a backpack. While it was good to build up some muscle, it was beyond cumbersome. His shoulders already ached from carrying the damn thing around town.

Then he saw the price. Three thousand Pokedollars to learn, and that was subsidised by the government for new trainers in their first year. 

He needed to make some money fast.

"What do you think, Giru? Any suggestions on how to make money?"

The robot on his shoulder swivelled to meet his eyes, its one red eye glowing bright. It didn't speak, but he heard his phone receive a notification almost immediately.

Dylan checked the notification. Giru had compiled information on earning Pokedollars from multiple sources. Each had its advantages and drawbacks.

"You're already proving your worth. Don't listen to any naysayers saying Skynet's going to take over the world."

Giru blinked, confused. Probably searching for Skynet references right now.

Dylan put his phone away and stored the book in his bag. It looked like the easiest way to earn some Pokedollars right now was to battle, which carried some risk of its own. He'd have to wager some money to earn more. High risk, high reward. 

First, he needed to gain some experience with Bruiser and do some research on his moveset. Understand what worked, what didn't. How to maximise damage output and minimise risk.

He could gain some experience fighting some wild Pokémon. Nothing too dangerous. 

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Dylan stood at the edge of Pallet Town, where the well-maintained road gave way to packed dirt. Route 1 stretched ahead, bordered by tall grass that swayed in the breeze. The guidebook had warned about wild Pokémon lurking in those patches, mostly Rattata and Pidgey. Nothing threatening, but enough to test a new trainer.

Or enough to kill him if he fucked this up badly enough.

Strangely enough, there wasn't a highway leading to Viridian City. At least not in this part of the world. Vehicles were largely obsolete, as people had more convenient ways to travel—flying on Pokemon, riding them overland, or teleporting directly between destinations. Every town, including Pallet Town, maintained a designated teleportation zone, staffed with Pokemon who provided the service for a fee. Outside of these official zones, it was illegal to teleport anywhere within town or city limits.

Bruiser sniffed the air, his tail held high. The Houndour's posture had shifted from relaxed to something more alert. His ears swivelled, tracking sounds Dylan couldn't pick up.

"Right then." Dylan adjusted the straps of his backpack. "Let's start our training.”

Bruiser’s moveset was limited but functional. Ember for Fire-type coverage, Smog for status effects, Leer to lower Defence, and Howl to boost Attack. Basic, but it gave them options.

Dylan considered the strategy. Ember would be their primary damage dealer, since Bruiser’s Special Attack was his highest stat. It was effective against Grass, Bug, Ice and Steel types. Smog could poison targets, useful for wearing down tougher opponents. Howl could turn Bruiser into a physical threat if they needed to close in for Bite—though the move wasn’t currently in his arsenal.

Note to self: figure out how Pokemon actually learn new moves in this world. Did they learn them on their own when they levelled up, or did he have to teach them directly?

"I need to put you through your paces," Dylan said. "I can't let you rush into battle without any intel.”

Bruiser growled.

"Yeah, yeah. I know you're eager. But if we're going to survive in this world, we need to be smart about it."

Dylan found a suitable clearing and gestured for Bruiser to take position. "Giru, record everything and take notes. I want details on range, power, accuracy—anything useful."

The robot's eye glowed brighter in acknowledgement.

"Right then. Let's start with Ember. Aim for that tree stump."

Bruiser opened his jaws, and flames erupted forth. The fire streaked across the clearing, splashing against the charred wood with a satisfying crack. The flames dispersed quickly, leaving scorch marks but no sustained burn.

"Effective range looks to be about three metres before the flames lose cohesion," Dylan said. "The duration is short, about two seconds of actual flame projection."

He studied the stump, frowning. The damage was decent but not devastating. Special Attack affected the damage output, obviously, but did it affect range as well? Or was that purely a matter of practice and technique refinement? Did Pokemon have something equivalent to muscle memory for their moves, or was it all instinctive?

"Ember's a solid opener, but we'll need something stronger for tougher opponents. Next—Leer."

Bruiser's eyes flashed red. Through the Aura Link, he felt a pulse of intimidation emanate from the Houndour. It wasn’t physical, but it was definitely present.

“Can't measure that one easily, but I felt something through the Link. Psychological effect, maybe? Makes the target more vulnerable." Dylan rubbed his chin. "We'll need actual combat data to see how much it actually weakens defences. Moving on—Howl."

Bruiser threw his head back and released a bone-chilling howl. A Rattata darted out of a nearby bush, and Dylan felt the hairs on his arms stand up. Through the Link, he sensed Bruiser's confidence surge, a tangible boost to his fighting spirit.

"Smog next."

He hoped it didn’t poison him. He didn't think to check if humans were immune to Pokemon poison attacks, and that seems like the kind of oversight that could ruin his entire day. 

Dylan took a few hasty steps back for extra protection. 

Bruiser exhaled a noxious purple cloud that spread across the clearing. The gas hung in the air for a moment before the breeze began dispersing it.

He covered his nose, grimacing. "Christ, that reeks. Range is poor in open areas—wind's our enemy with this one. It might be more effective indoors or in enclosed spaces."

He pulled out his phone and checked Giru's notes. The robot had catalogued everything.

Giru is definitely his favourite, no matter who joins his team. Look at this data. It was amazing. 

Movement flickered in the grass to their left. Dylan tensed as a Rattata burst from the grass, purple fur bristling. It chittered aggressively, beady eyes fixed on them before charging forward.

"Bruiser, Leer!"

The Houndour's eyes flashed red, and the Rattata faltered mid-stride. Its confidence wavered, visible in the way its body tensed and its charge slowed.

"Now, Ember!"

Bruiser opened his mouth, and flames erupted. The attack caught the Rattata squarely in the chest. It squealed, stumbling back, but recovered quickly and launched itself at Bruiser with a desperate Tackle.

"Dodge right!"

The Houndour moved, but not quite fast enough. The Rattata clipped his shoulder, and Bruiser yelped, spinning from the impact. The Rattata landed and immediately tried to retreat.

"Don't let it escape—Ember again!"

Another burst of flame caught the Rattata as it turned to flee. This time, it collapsed into the grass, twitching once before going still. 

Dylan frowned. "That was sloppy."

Bruiser huffed, clearly disagreeing.

"I'm not talking about your aim—that was fine. I mean our coordination." Dylan crouched, meeting Bruiser's eyes. "You dodged late because I called it late. I didn't account for the Rattata's recovery time after taking a hit. If that had been a stronger Pokémon, we'd be in actual trouble. We both need to improve."

Through the Link, he felt Bruiser's annoyance, but also acknowledgement. The Houndour understood, even if he didn't like being criticised.

Dylan glanced at the Rattata. For a moment, he considered capturing it. His first wild Pokémon. A nice little milestone. But he dismissed the thought almost immediately.

He'd already spent time planning what Pokemon he wanted from Route 1. With only five Poke Balls, he couldn't afford to waste resources on Pokémon that didn't fit his plans. Rattata didn't make the cut.

A flying type was a must. The benefits for transportation, scouting, and aerial combat were too important to overlook. Pidgey would be the safe choice—reliable, easy to train, evolved into a decent Pidgeot with respectable stats across the board. Spearow was riskier, more aggressive by nature, but Fearow had better offensive stats and that vicious streak could be an asset if channelled properly.

Then there was Pineco. The guidebook had mentioned small populations in the coastal woodlands. Pallet Town sat on a peninsula, which meant the sea was never more than a few kilometres away in either direction. 

Pineco would provide a crucial survival tool with Self-Destruct. If he encountered a Pokemon beyond his ability to handle, the sacrificial move could mean the difference between life and death. A nuclear option for when retreat wasn't viable.

If it knew Endure, it would make for an excellent defensive pivot as well. While the ability couldn't save Pineco from its own Self-Destruct, Endure had plenty of tactical applications in most battles.

"Come on," Dylan said, standing. "Let's find some more wild Pokemon.”

They continued down the route, passing other trainers heading in the opposite direction. Most were older, their clothes dusty and worn from travel. A few glanced at Dylan and Bruiser, assessing them. None approached, which suited Dylan fine. 

There was a rustle in the grass, and another Rattata appeared. It darted out, heading straight for them.

Aggressive little shits. Territorial, maybe? Or just naturally belligerent?

"Leer, then Ember when it closes in!"

Bruiser's eyes glowed red, and the Rattata hesitated mid-stride. Its confidence faltered, visible in the way its body tensed. Bruiser followed up with Ember, the flames catching the Rattata squarely. It squealed and bolted back into the grass.

Better. Not perfect, but better. The timing was improving. They were learning.

They fought five more Pokémon over the next hour—three Pidgey and two Rattata. Each encounter taught Dylan something new. Bruiser’s reaction time was excellent, but he tended to overcommit to attacks, leaving himself open for counterstrikes.

By the fifth battle, they'd developed a rhythm. The Aura Link helped—Dylan could sense when Bruiser was about to act, and could adjust his commands accordingly. It wasn't seamless, but it was improving.

He considered capturing one of the Pidgeys he battled, but after scanning them, none stood out as particularly impressive. Truth be told, he was holding out for a Pidgeotto. They were rare on Route 1, but not impossible to find. As long as its level was manageable, that would be his target.

He also had to consider Bruiser's stamina. There was no strict limit on how many moves a Pokemon could use, but exhaustion was definitely a factor. They became tired just like people, and pushing them too hard risked injury or worse. Better to pace their training than risk burning out his only partner.

Dylan turned off the main road and headed for the woodlands on the coast. He needed to capture another Pokemon before Bruiser exhausted himself. Although you could purchase healing items to restore stamina, they were expensive as hell. He couldn’t afford them at the moment.  

Pineco first. Then he would stand a chance at capturing a Pidgeotto. 

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Dylan crouched in the undergrowth, Bruiser pressed against his leg, both of them watching the Pineco hanging motionless from a branch about ten metres away. 

He pulled out his phone and opened the Pokenav app, aiming the camera at the Pineco. The scan took a moment, then data populated the screen in neat rows.

Species: Pineco. Type: Bug. Gender: Male. Height: 2 feet. Weight: 15.4 pounds. Level: 9. Ability: Sturdy. Moves: Protect, Tackle, Bug Bite, Self-Destruct.

Dylan grinned. It had taken him until early afternoon to find one that ticked all the boxes, and his stomach was reminding him loudly that he'd skipped lunch. But he couldn't afford to rush this. If he fucked this up, he'd have wasted hours and gained nothing.

No pressure. 

"Alright, Bruiser," Dylan whispered, hand on the Houndour's flank. "We open with Ember, try to damage it before it realises we're here. Then we adapt based on what it does. Got it?"

Through the Link, he felt Bruiser's acknowledgement.

"Now."

Bruiser burst from the bushes, jaws opening, and flames erupted toward the Pineco. The Bug-type reacted instantly, dropping from the branch and levitating backwards—not flying, exactly, but it wasn’t slow either. The Ember scorched the bark where it had been hanging a second before.

Shit. Fast reflexes.

The Pineco spun midair, body glowing with a translucent barrier. Protect. Bruiser's second Ember splashed harmlessly against the shield, flames dispersing in all directions.

"Smog! Force it out into the open!"

Bruiser exhaled a noxious purple cloud that spread rapidly through the trees. The Pineco floated higher, trying to escape the poison gas, but the canopy forced it to stay relatively low. It darted behind a thick tree trunk, using the wood as cover.

Dylan circled left, keeping low, tracking the Pineco's position through gaps in the foliage. Bruiser moved right, flanking, cutting off escape routes. The Smog hung in the air, reducing visibility but also limiting the Pineco's options.

The Pineco darted from behind the tree and spun quickly towards Bruiser, using Tackle to cover the distance. 

Bruiser dodged sideways, and Dylan called out, "Ember, lead its movement!"

Flames caught the Pineco mid-spin, and it chittered before retreating into the cover of another tree.

Bruiser charged ember after ember, forcing the Pineco to keep moving, keep defending. Protect flared again, blocking one attack, but the next one failed. The next Ember struck true, scorching the bug-type Pokemon.

The Pineco dropped low, nearly touching the ground, then launched itself forward, unleashing Bug Bite. Bruiser yelped as the attack connected, the super-effective move drawing blood from his shoulder.

Dylan grimaced. That's got to hurt.

"Smog again, right in its face!"

Bruiser exhaled point-blank, and the Pineco recoiled, levitating backwards erratically. The poison was taking effect now—Dylan could see it in the way the Pineco's movements were becoming less coordinated, more sluggish. It tried to retreat behind another tree, but Bruiser was faster, circling around and cutting it off with another Ember.

The Pineco shuddered. It hung in the air for a moment, and Dylan held his breath, reaching for a Poke Ball.

Then the Pineco began to glow.

Oh shit. Self-Destruct.

"Bruiser, get back! Now!"

Dylan threw himself sideways, diving behind the nearest tree as the Pineco detonated. The explosion was deafening—louder than he'd expected, a physical shockwave that rattled his teeth and sent debris flying. Heat washed over him, and something sharp struck his arm, drawing a line of pain across his bicep.

When the ringing in his ears subsided, Dylan looked around the tree. The Pineco lay on the ground, still intact, but it was clearly unconscious now. Bruiser had made it far enough back to avoid the worst of the blast, though his fur was singed and he looked shaken.

Dylan didn't hesitate. He pulled out a Pokeball, enlarged it, and threw it. The ball struck the Pineco, pulled it inside in a flash of red light, then fell to the ground. 

The Poke Ball shook once before he heard a click.

Goddamn, he actually got it.

Dylan grabbed the Pokeball, clipped it to his belt, then looked at Bruiser. "Come on, we're leaving. This air's toxic."

They moved through the trees, putting distance between themselves and the battlefield. 

Note to self: Self-Destruct is significantly more dangerous in person than in a game. Avoid being nearby when it happens.

By the time they reached clearer air, Dylan had made his decision. They were heading back to Pallet Town. The Pokémon Centre offered free healing services—it would take a few hours, but that was better than paying for potions he couldn't afford. Bruiser needed treatment, and so did Pineco.

He needed a Pokémon that could heal. Chansey would be ideal, but those are rare as hell.

Another problem for the list. 

But for now, he had his Bug-type. One step closer to a functional team.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

While his Pokemon were being healed, Dylan explored more of Pallet Town. Although it wasn't the largest settlement, he didn't want to miss any opportunities. Information gathering was just as important as training.

He started to notice hostile looks from the town residents as he walked past the general store, making him wonder what the hell he'd done wrong.

Okay, so it wasn’t just paranoia. These people genuinely didn’t like him.

He'd noticed it earlier—the server at the cafe, some people on the streets—but hadn't thought much about it at the time. Now that he was getting more hostile looks, directed specifically at him and not just general unfriendliness, he needed to understand why.

Did the previous Dylan do something? 

He returned to the Pokemon Centre and took a seat at one of the tables near the windows, away from the handful of other trainers waiting for their Pokemon. Nurse Joy smiled at him from behind the counter as she worked—at least she wasn't against him, which was something. The nurse was gorgeous, and he could admit, at least to himself, that he had a bit of a thing for women in uniforms. 

Focus, Dylan. 

He closed his eyes and focused inward, searching for memories that would provide more context about his past. It was painstaking work. He needed to rest every so often; otherwise, a splitting headache would start building behind his eyes like someone was driving nails into his skull.

Slowly, piece by painful piece, he assembled a rough outline of the life he'd inherited.

The orphanage wasn't anything special—standard government-run facility, adequate food and shelter, nothing resembling warmth or family. His basic schooling was equivalent to high school level, covering the standard curriculum plus Aura training. He'd gotten into fights with the other kids frequently. He was a loner who mostly kept to himself. In his free time, he researched Pokemon, learning about team combinations and battle tactics.

Then Dylan discovered the reason for the locals' dislike.

His parents were criminals. Active members of Team Rocket. Currently serving sentences for theft and kidnapping—he didn't know the finer details, but they were both locked up for over twenty years. They'd be eligible for parole in a few years, but that didn't change what they'd done or how the town saw their son.

Oh, that's just fucking perfect. I'm guilty by association.

The ill-treatment stemmed entirely from his parents' reputation, nothing he'd actually done himself. No wonder the original Dylan had kept to himself.

He frowned when a particular memory surfaced, sharper than the others. His parents had sent him a letter from prison. He couldn't recall most of what it said, but he knew it had upset him considerably. Something about a small stash of Pokedollars they'd hidden in town before their arrest.

Dylan tried to recall the location, pushing against the fog in his mind, but it remained stubbornly out of reach. Then he realised that the original Dylan had been smart enough to write it down.

He immediately pulled out his phone.

Dylan scrolled through the notes app, backtracking through years of entries, until he found the relevant note, dated nearly three years ago.

Stash location: buried in the backyard of my old house, northwest corner, 0.5m deep.

His eyes lit up. The previous Dylan might have been conflicted about using stolen money, but Dylan didn't have that luxury—or that particular hangup. He needed money desperately, and after all this time, whoever it had been stolen from had likely moved on or been compensated by insurance.

Practical survival comes before ethics every time. That's a belief Dylan Reed lived by.

But there was a problem. The house was now occupied—he'd walked past it earlier without realising the significance. A young family lived there now. He couldn't just walk into the backyard during daylight and start digging without someone noticing and calling the authorities.

Dylan would need to do it at night. He hoped that the family didn't have any alert Pokemon. He would need to wait until late, past midnight, when the town was truly asleep. Have Bruiser keep watch.

Just another crime to add to the family legacy.

At least he was consistent.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Dylan poked his head out of his small two-man tent and surveyed his surroundings. The morning air was cool, and the sun was beginning to peek over the trees to the east. He'd set up camp just outside Pallet Town after last night's activities. Nothing had disturbed him.

Bruiser was lying across the tent entrance, a living barrier protecting his trainer from anything looking for trouble. The Houndour's ears twitched as Dylan emerged, but he didn't move otherwise. 

Dylan had placed Giru on top of the tent, where the robot had kept watch throughout the night. The extended surveillance had drained its battery considerably. He'd need to recharge it before heading for Viridian City.

Last night's excursion to retrieve the stash had gone off without a hitch. He'd waited until past midnight, sneaked through the darkened streets, and climbed the fence into the backyard of his old home. The digging had been nerve-wracking, but no lights had come on in the house. 

When he'd opened the container, he'd discovered over twenty thousand Pokedollars inside. A small sum in the overall scheme of things, but a fortune given his current situation. 

Thank you, criminal parents. He appreciated their one contribution to his life.

Once the shops opened, he would head straight to the Pokémart to purchase the Dimensional Storage technique. He wanted to get rid of the backpack as soon as possible, although he might purchase a smaller one for convenience. 

He was also interested in getting the Aura Guard technique. It was a shielding ability that protected the user from a certain amount of damage—essentially a personal force field that absorbed impacts. Expensive at eight thousand Pokedollars, but well worth the investment. His Pokemon couldn't protect him at all times.

He'd focus on learning Dimensional Storage first. It was the immediate priority. Then he could stock up on food for himself and his Pokemon, purchase emergency potions, and get some proper camping equipment. 

Dylan retrieved Pineco's Pokeball from his belt and summoned him. The Bug-type materialised on the ground. 

He crouched down and hefted the Pokemon experimentally, surprised by the weight. Not light, but not too heavy either. He could throw him if needed. Which is exactly what he was planning to do. He would use him essentially as a living grenade. 

He spent last night researching Pineco's physiology and how Self-Destruct worked. As far as he could determine, there were no long-term repercussions from Pineco fainting due to Self-Destruct. 

Which meant he essentially got a reusable explosive. It wasn’t morally questionable at all.

He was planning to use Nitro to capture a Pidgeotto. The strategy was simple: have Bruiser ground the flying-type, then chuck Nitro at close range and trigger Self-Destruct. The explosion would knock the Pidgeotto out, and Dylan could capture it immediately after.

"Alright, Nitro," Dylan said. "We need to have a conversation about how I’m going to utilise you in battle."

Nitro tilted slightly, the closest thing to a head tilt he could manage given his physiology. Through the newly established Aura Link, Dylan felt curiosity mixed with wariness. He didn't fully trust him yet. 

"Here's the situation," Dylan continued, keeping his tone conversational. "I need a Pokemon that can handle defensive operations and provide emergency offensive capabilities. You've got Protect, which is excellent for the former. And Self-Destruct is potentially a game-changer for the latter."

Nitro's shell shifted, a slight vibration that Dylan interpreted as an acknowledgement.  Hard to tell with a Pokemon that had limited expressive capacity.

"I'm not going to lie to you," Dylan said. "I'm going to use you as a tactical weapon. When we encounter threats we can't handle conventionally, I'll need you to use Self-Destruct."

Through the Link, he felt resistance. Not just hesitation—active, escalating hostility. Nitro understood exactly what he was proposing, and he was absolutely not on board with being used as a living grenade.

Nitro began to glow.

Oh shit. 

"Wait, no, we can talk about this—"

Dylan grabbed the Pineco and hurled him away from the tent with every ounce of strength he possessed. He sailed through the air, still glowing brighter, and detonated mid-flight about ten metres away.

The explosion rattled through the campsite. Bruiser yelped, scrambling to his feet. 

Fantastic. Brilliant negotiating, Dylan. Really showing off those Pokemon skills.

When the smoke cleared, Nitro lay unconscious on the ground. 

"Well," he said to Bruiser, who was giving him a look that clearly said, What the hell is wrong with you? "That went poorly."

He walked over and returned Nitro to his Pokeball.

Note to self: Pokémon have strong opinions about being used as living explosives. Also note: they can express those opinions violently and immediately.

Maybe start with building trust before proposing suicide missions. Revolutionary concept.

So, what do you think? In the next chapter, Dylan finds a Pidgeotto and heads for Viridian City. 

Thanks for reading.