(Grey's POV)
The transition from the vibrant greenery of Route 8 to the outskirts of Lavender Town was not merely a change in geography; it was a total shift in the world's frequency. One moment, the sun had been a pale disc behind the high-altitude clouds, and the next, it was swallowed by a thick, clinging blanket of violet-tinged fog. It rolled off the jagged peaks of the Rock Tunnel like a heavy tide, dampening the sound of my footsteps and turning the silhouette of the town into a collection of jagged, purple-roofed ghosts.
I stood at the boundary for a long minute, the weight of the Ninetales' presence still pressing against my spine. I was genuinely afraid. I had seen Erica's Venusaur and that Ninetales gave of a similar feel ,It was an ancient, predatory pressure that suggested my life was a flame she could snuff out with a stray thought. Whatever "mumbo jumbo" she had been muttering about my future and the "mental pain" I was destined to face in this town was starting to feel less like a riddle and more like a threat.
"Experience something in Lavender, huh?" I whispered, my breath hitching in the cold air. "Great. Just what I needed."
I recalled my Pokémon, keeping only Meowth out. The feline was unusually quiet, his ears pinned back against his skull as he sniffed the damp air. He didn't like the smell of this place. It smelled of incense, damp stone, and something older—the scent of static and stagnant energy.
The walk into the town square was unnerving. Unlike Celadon, where the air hummed with the sound of commerce and the neon glow of the Game Corner, Lavender was silent. The only rhythmic sound was the distant, somber tolling of a bell from the massive stone structure that loomed over the eastern horizon: the Pokémon Tower.
My first stop was the Pokémon Center. Even here, the atmosphere was oppressive. The lighting was dimmed, and the usual cheerful chime of the healing machine sounded muted, almost apologetic. Nurse Joy looked exhausted, her eyes rimmed with dark circles as she took my tray of Poké Balls. She performed her duties with clinical efficiency, but the warmth I had come to expect from the Joy line was absent.
"Your Pokémon are healthy, Trainer," she said, her voice a soft, tired monotone. "Please... be respectful while you are in our town. This is a place of rest."
"Of course," I replied, feeling like an intruder.
I headed to the local Poké Mart next, hoping a bit of business would ground me. I had a bag full of items Meowth had scavenged—pearls, nuggets, and various battle items found in the dirt of Route 8. When I dumped them onto the counter, the clerk didn't look impressed. He looked annoyed.
"Scavenged these, did you?" he asked, his voice gravelly. He began appraising the items with a cold eye.
When he finished, he handed over a stack of bills totaling roughly 35,000 Poké-dollars. It was a significant haul, but when I asked about the Pay Day coins Meowth had generated, he scoffed.
"One dollar per coin," he stated flatly.
"One?" I blinked. "The guy in Celadon gave me a much better rate. He said the craftsmanship and the gold content—"
"This isn't Celadon, kid," the clerk interrupted, leaning over the counter. "In the city, they like the novelty. Here, a coin is a coin. We don't have a high demand for 'lucky' charms when half the town is mourning. Take it or leave it. Maybe your city friend gave you a better rate because you're a local. Here? You're just another traveler passing through a graveyard."
I took the money, feeling the sting of the "outsider" tax. It was a stark reminder that my meta-knowledge of the game's economy was failing me. In the games, prices were static. In this world, the mood of the town dictated the value of the coin, some citys had a better economy so it meant better prices.
Stepping back out into the fog, I decided to wander the streets to get my bearings. The citizens were not friendly. They moved through the mist with their heads down, draped in dark coats, often carrying bundles of white flowers or bundles of incense. When I tried to ask for directions to the local Gym, I was met with cold stares or ignored entirely. The atmosphere was morose, a collective grief that seemed to have soaked into the very mortar of the buildings.
I spent a few hours doing what I could to blend in. I helped an elderly woman clear some thick, thorny weeds from a small shrine near the edge of the town, and I delivered a crate of specialized "Ghost-type" incense to a somber man near the town well. Through these small tasks, I gathered fragments of information. People didn't talk about a "Gym." They talked about the "Volunteer House" and the man who ran it.
Following their vague directions, I finally reached the Pokémon House on the edge of the residential district. It was a modest, warm-looking building that stood in stark contrast to the gloom of the rest of the town. Inside, the sounds of small Pokémon—a Vulpix, a Nidoran, and the lonely cry of a Cubone—filled the air.
A young woman, Fuji's assistant, looked up as I entered. She looked kinder than the rest of the town, but her expression was worried.
"Can I help you, Trainer?" she asked.
"I'm looking for Mr. Fuji," I said, adjusting my bag. "I was told... well, I was looking for the Gym Leader of Lavender Town."
The woman sighed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Mr. Fuji is indeed our Leader, though he prefers the title of Volunteer. He believes that a battle should be a test of spirit, not just a competition for a badge. But he isn't here right now."
"Where is he?"
"He went to the Pokémon Tower," she said, glancing toward the window where the massive stone tower pierced the fog. "He goes there every day to comfort the spirits and tend to the graves. But he's been gone longer than usual today. There have been... rumors. Unsettling sights in the mist. He wanted to make sure the Pokémon residing there were safe."
I froze. My mind immediately began to race. In my memory of the games, Mr. Fuji was the legendary scientist, Dr. Fuji—the man who had been obsessed with the creation of Mewtwo, the man who had worked on Cinnabar Island. But here? Here he was a local saint, a Gym Leader who spent his days in a house for orphaned Pokémon.
If my knowledge was right about who he was, then why was he here as a Gym Leader? It reinforced the terrifying realization I'd been having since I left Celadon: my knowledge of this world was not absolute. It was a distorted map. If Fuji was a Gym Leader here, then maybe Mewtwo also may or may not exist or maybe some other scientist created it in this world or maybe Fuji was still involved but is also a gym leader in this world.
"The Tower," I muttered.
"Are you going to look for him?" the assistant asked, her voice hopeful but cautious. "He usually doesn't like being disturbed during his prayers, but... I have a bad feeling today."
I looked at Meowth. He hissed at the mention of the Tower. The Ninetales' warning echoed in my head: The city you are headed to will change you as a person.
"I'm going," I said, my voice firmer than I felt. "I need that match", Honestly I just wanted to get out of this town so the faster I got my gym battle the better , something in me was screaming to get out of here and that Ninetales premonition was making my mind really scared.
I turned and walked back into the violet mist, the silhouette of the Pokémon Tower looming over me like a giant headstone. I was walking toward the one place in Kanto where the line between the living and the dead was the thinnest.
Authors' Note: Experimenting with some new styles, Anyway the poll results might not be what happens from just in this platform as I have asked in other platforms as well so it is a cummulative vote from mutliple platform currently Charmander is in the lead with Charcadet in a close second . Surprisingly its more evenly spread throughout expect for torchic and litten .Anyways will announce the results this Sunday.