I do not own anything, Pokemon is owned by TPC/Gamefreak or whatever.

So ladies and gents, I'm not going to lie, I generally hate SI-OCs but what started as a crack idea to joke about that kind of Pokemon story turned into this and a crack idea kinda played straight. For better or for worse, let the chaos begin!


It was all over.

Ben Bowen scowled and pushed his black Dell laptop away from him in disgust, barely able to bring himself to even look at the screen.

Two years of grueling work building up his fanbase for his gaming channel. Three years of blood and sweat put into his scambaiting endeavors. Constant tweaking to try to figure out how to use the YouTube algorithm to his advantage – at least to the best of his abilities. And it had all gone down the toilet.

He should never have done that DDLC Plus livestream with Doctor Cascade.

Ben slumped in his swivel chair and just barely resisted the growing urge to slam his head on the desk in front of him. He knew it was coming: his scambaiting channel took major hits over the past few days, but it still amazed him how fast everything had collapsed. First his gaming channel and now his scambaiting channel sat at closer to zero subscribers than the millions he had less than a week ago.

He forced himself to peek at the screen again.

A wave of nostalgia swept over him from staring at the logo of an anime chibi superhero sitting at a desk in front of a computer. He had many good memories associated with Silver Sentry – he could remember sketching the character, uploading it as his channel's background, and deciding to use the moniker and logo again for his gaming channel.

What he would have done to go back to those times before everything had become an endless nightmare.

He had a video to upload – part two of his most recent exploits against some idiotic call center into Nigeria. He quickly exported his Premiere file as a 24FPS MP4 and began the upload process. Hopefully a video of trolling a hacker by using the remote access feature against him would prove funny enough to help gain back some of his following and get him back into the good graces of the fans.

Though he wasn't going to hold his breath.

Doctor Cascade's fanbase was vicious, toxic, and unforgiving. Worse, some of the criticism against him wasn't completely unwarranted. He did lie to his friend during their last DDLC Plus livestream about reading his novel and only dug a deeper hole when he got caught in the lie and tried to explain his way out.

He'd learned several truths the hard way from the experience.

First, he realized he was nowhere near as slick as he thought he was. For all his practice trolling scammers, it did very little to help him talk his way out of embarrassing situations. Second, misleading someone to spare their feelings could actually cause a bigger issue once you were asked for details. Third, admitting to your friend that you didn't actually read his book because it wasn't a priority at the time was a bad idea. Lastly, if any of the other things didn't cause a firestorm, telling a fellow YouTuber with nine million subscribers and a stake in your channel that you thought his novel's world was just a poorly executed version of the Matrix would definitely cause problems. Especially since some YouTubers, like his friend and former partner in crime, had rabid fan bases and his observations weren't appreciated.

Seeing his YouTube recommendations served as another reminder of that fact. The Fall of Silver Sentry, Silver Sentry judges books by their cover, Why Silver Sentry is wrong about the Ethereal series, Idiot fails to understand Doctor Cascade, Silver Sentry: Idiot or Jealous? – the list was endless.

If only out of morbid curiosity's sake, Ben clicked on one of his videos to see what the fans were saying. It didn't take long for him to regret it.

He obviously hates Cascade for his success. People see through this. So, FO

Silver will never be the man Cascade is. Silver is so jealous :( little liar who takes things out of context

Wouldn't leave thus silver guy aline with my kids just sayin

IF YOU'VE NEVER SEEN A PERSON ATTEMPTING TO MAKE UP A NARRATIVE AS THEY GO ALONG, HERE IS YOUR CHANCE: 4:81 (Sheer narrative with no FACTS)

Silver Sentry crawled up from the sewers, ignore his stupidity

Pride comes before the fall

Ben quickly shut his laptop and opted to reach for his phone, opening up iMessage to type in a quick text to one of his friends.

Lyn, it's Ben. The tech repair shop isn't calling back yet. Think they'll accept my application even if I don't have experience in repairs? Getting really worried. University of Wisconsin tuition doesn't pay itself and I'm gonna need a decent gig here soon

He watched the phone closely for any indication of a response and frowned after five minutes passed without so much as a read notification. Ben sighed, frustrated he wouldn't be hearing back from his closest friend – at least for the time being.

He supposed that was par for the course. He really needed some encouragement, to hear something was going right lately, and he needed to talk with someone that didn't hate his guts.

Lyn just happened to be one of those people and one of the few friends he had around campus. Although now that he thought of it, she was probably busy studying or writing her research paper. She mentioned having to get it done earlier in the day.

Ben skimmed over his contact list in search of someone else to contact only to remember that all of his friends were probably busy. Jayden was supposed to be out on a date, Lyn was dealing with her research paper for European history, Daniel was probably about to head off to work since he worked evenings, and Brett was supposed to visit with family over the next few days.

He grumbled under his breath and resigned himself to the fact he wouldn't be able to get his mind off the situation by talking to someone. He'd have to find a different way to distract himself.

Ben laced on a pair of worn, fading silver sneakers and slipped out of his dorm room and down the hallway. He needed some fresh air. Some time away from the white-walled confines of Slichter Residence Hall would give him a chance to clear his head.

He left the dormitory behind and trudged out into the overcast evening. Streetlamps cast the rain-slicked sidewalks in a golden glow; he frowned at the patter of cold drizzle on his face. Shivered and zipped up his Wisconsin Badgers jacket. Another frigid Midwestern autumn was upon them.

The sidewalk was scattered with students. Maroon umbrellas were splashes of radiance amid the gloom, and fog swirled at students' ankles as they hurried past in search of unknown destinations.

He was alone. Ben had once felt troubled down to his soul by that sense of being a stranger in a crowd, a blurry face in someone else's peripheral vision that would soon be forgotten. But now it was a relief.

Ben's melancholy was broken by an elbow to the ribs. His attention snapped to a guy who'd rushed out of the dorms behind him.

"Hey, please watch where you're going!" Ben scolded.

"Sorry!" The mousy student exclaimed. He flashed a nervous grin and waved a dog-eared copy of Probability and Stochastic Processes. "Just running late!"

Ben nodded in understanding and waved him off. Despite the awful weather, he apparently wasn't the only student out and about. He passed by a small group of students returning to the dorms.

"Happy Homecoming Week," one of them called out. They smiled as he passed, prompting a feigned smile from Ben and a polite wave.

He didn't know the girls with them too well but recognized the slick-blonde Econ bro and ganja-scented ginger from his floor of the dorms. Newly enrolled freshman, if he remembered correctly.

The brief exchange lightened his spirits slightly. It was nice to see some friendly faces given the last twelve hours of online interaction mostly consisted of people calling him dirty names and cussing him out. He heard more calls for him to do the anatomically impossible than simple hellos.

Ben flinched from the unexpected sound of a notification bell and reached for his phone after picking up his pace to a steady jog. He peeked at the screen, partially expecting a response from Lyn only to find a notification far more unexpected.

Palkia nearby, Palkia disappears in ten minutes.

Ben did a double take. Hadn't he turned off notifications for Pokemon Go on his phone? The app had been taking up far more of his time than he cared to admit lately – the chance to catch old favorites preyed on his nostalgia and the fact he could transfer the things he caught in Go to Sword certainly wasn't helping his addiction.

He must have forgotten. Better take care of that now – the last thing he wanted was to end up on his phone the entire walk like in times past. He had come outside to enjoy the autumn night and breathe in the rain-scented air, not stare at a flickering screen.

Besides, the last time he was on a Pokemon Go binge while on a walk he ran into a streetlight.

Ben opened up the settings on his phone to turn off notifications and slipped his phone back into his pocket. He picked up his pace into a full blown sprint in hopes of refocusing on his workout only for his mind to drift back to the notification.

All he needed to complete the National Dex were the legendary Pokemon. Would he get another chance like this? Wouldn't it be better just to complete the collection so he could give up the game for good?

He yanked his phone back out of his pocket and checked to make sure there was still time before scanning for the location of the Palkia. He pumped his fist high in the air, barely able to believe his luck. Not only did he still have seven minutes to get to the location in time, but it just happened to be nearby and close to the carryout he planned on stopping by to grab something to eat.

He raced ahead to the very end of Tripp Drive, arriving at the intersection between it and Autumn Avenue. He stopped momentarily, caught off guard by the fact that the crosswalk seemed to be missing. Rain had flooded the street and before him a deep puddle gleamed in the night.

He took a small, hesitant step onto the street to test the waters. Not too deep. His socks and shoes would be soaked, but he would be fine.

"Come on, come on," he cursed under his breath, glancing back and forth from the time displayed at the top of his screen to the crosswalk light. He tapped his foot on the pavement impatiently. It felt like the light was taking an eternity to change from orange LED hand to white LED pedestrian. Palkia would be gone by the time the light changed – not to mention he would be absolutely drenched.

Ben tentatively stepped further out into the flooded street and past a Septic Slayers Plumbing van parked on the curb. It was an ugly thing, a grime-encrusted 1974 Ford whose white paint was now closer to brown. He could hardly see past its hulking frame to the street traffic beyond. Glancing back at it, he peered inside the ajar rear doors.

He blinked and shook his head before taking a second look to ensure he wasn't imagining things. The faint sallow light from inside the van illuminated stacks of haphazard manhole covers. There must have been hundreds of them.

Who stored that many manhole covers inside a van? Actually what kind of name was Septic Slayers anyway, and who in the world thought it was a good idea to park near the crosswalk?

Ben shook off the thoughts and checked his phone again to make sure he had time to snag the Palkia. He grinned. He still had three minutes, which gave him enough leeway to accomplish his mission.

He began slogging his way through the puddle. The ear-splitting scream of rusty brakes was his first sign something was wrong.

He looked up from his phone and scrambled backwards as a truck whooshed by, hydroplaning through spraying cold water. The torrent fell upon Ben like a hammer and in an instant, his dark wet hair was plastered to his skull and his clothes were drenched.

His gasped from the cold, his heart pounding in his chest as he stared in shock at the truck receding into the darkness. That would have been a terrible way to die.

He wasn't sure about the grisly details of truck accidents, but was sure it wouldn't be as clean as anime liked to make them out to be. Besides, the last thing he wanted was to be memorialized as one of those idiots that died playing Pokemon Go.

How pathetic would it be to go out because he was distracted?

He snorted in amusement at the thought and continued across the submerged crosswalk – or at least he thought. He couldn't actually see it beneath the rain-rippled gloom of the puddle.

Suddenly, his feet gave way underneath him and Ben only had time to feel his heart clench at the terrifying void where there should have been street – that van with the manhole covers! he thought in useless panic – and then he was falling, falling …

Splat.