Well dearies , it's a new fanfic fir you all.
I hope you all will enjoy it
Please support my other works as well.
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The first thing Alex felt was the cold.
It wasn't the kind of cold he was used to in Kerala, the pleasant chill of an Ac or the monsoon rain.
This was a biting, deep-seated cold that chilled the body.
It smelled of damp earth, unwashed bodies, and rust.
He gasped, his eyes snapping open.
"Hah... hah..."
His breath misted in the air.
Above him wasn't his plaster ceiling, but a rusted metal grate of a bunk bed.
The mattress beneath him was thin, lumpy, and smelled faintly of urine and mold.
Where am I?
Did I pass out?
Shouldn't have drank that red bull yesterday.
He tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness slammed him back down.
His head throbbed.
Memories...fragmented and violent crashed into his mind of a truck,Crying children.
Men in black uniforms holding batons.
The rocking of a ship.
And before that... a normal life.
He was Alex.
23 years old B.Pharm graduate.
Unemployed.
He had been reading a webnovel on his phone, worrying about his future while drinking a Red bull
He looked at his hands.
They were small,Too small.
Rough, callous, and covered in grime.
These weren't the hands of a pharmacy graduate who spent his days mixing chemicals and trading stocks on his phone. These were the hands of a laborer.
"What the hell..." his voice came out, but it wasn't his voice.
It was higher, cracking with the awkward pitch of puberty.
Panic, cold and sharp, spiked in his chest. He scrambled to touch his face.
His fingers brushed against skin that felt... warm.
Real...But the structure underneath was wrong.
His jaw was sharper than he remembered. His nose was different.
He clawed at his cheeks, expecting to peel away a nightmare, but the skin held firm.
Ding!
A silent, translucent blue pane flickered into existence in the upper left corner of his vision.
It hovered there, ghostly and unobtrusive, overlaying the grim reality of the barracks.
[ Identity: Ares (Active) ]
[ True Identity: Alex Hales (Concealed) ]
[ Status: Malnourished / Healthy ]
[ Equipment: Hyper-Realistic Bio-Mask (Equipped) ]
Alex froze.
He stared at the floating text, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.
"Ares?" he whispered.
He touched his face again.
A mask?
He pulled the thin, scratchy blanket over his head to create a cocoon of privacy.
With trembling fingers, he traced the hairline behind his ears.
There was no seam.
No zipper. It felt like skin.
It moved like skin.
But the blue text insisted it was a mask.
I'm inside a body... wearing a mask?
Why?
Who put this on me?
He took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart.
Think, Alex... Think...You read about this. Isekai,Transmigration... Just... calm down.
He peeked out from under the blanket.
The room was a massive, cavernous warehouse converted into a barracks.
Rows of metal bunk beds stretched out into the gloom.
He estimated at least four, maybe five hundred kids sleeping here.
Most looked around fourteen or fifteen.
On his left wrist, something beeped.
He pulled his arm up.
Strapped to his thin wrist was a bulky, black digital watch.
It looked durable, like a simplified military G-Shock, but the screen was glowing with amber text.
[ ID: 4491 ]
[ Current Points: 100 ]
[ Rank: Recruit (Fodder) ]
"Points," Alex muttered, a bitter taste filling his mouth.
"Recruit... Fodder."
The pieces fell into place.
The black uniforms in his memories.
The violent abduction.
The red 'R' logo he had seen on the crates in the truck.
Team Rocket.
He felt a sudden urge to vomit.
He wasn't in the anime.
He wasn't in the colorful world where Ash Ketchum made friends with Butterfrees and legendaries.
He was in the other side of the Pokémon world.
The side where people died.
"I'm going to die," he whispered, the realization hitting him with the weight of a physical blow.
He curled up, hugging his knees.
He was a pharmacy grad, not a soldier.
He knew how to mix paracetamol, not how to survive a knife fight.
Ding!
The blue screen shifted.
[ Inventory Unlocked ]
[ Capacity: 2m³ ]
He focused his mind on the word Inventory. It wasn't like a game menu; it felt like a mental muscle he didn't know he had. Suddenly, he could sense a small, empty void.
Inside, there were only two items.
*Combat Knife: Standard issue carbon steel. 6-inch blade.
* MP3 Player: Old Earth Model.
Battery Infinite. 14,302 Songs.
Alex blinked.
An MP3 player?
It was such an absurd, out-of-place object that he almost laughed.
He focused on it, and with a thought, a small, sleek black device materialized in his hand under the blanket.
He jammed the wired earbuds into his ears and pressed the center button.
...I tried so hard and got so far...
Linkin Park.
The familiar, angsty guitar riff flooded his ears, drowning out the sounds of snoring and the distant hum of ventilation fans. Tears pricked his eyes.
It was a stupid, small thing, but hearing Chester Bennington's voice made him want to sob.
He thought of his family , his friends.
It was a tether to a world that made sense.
A world where his biggest problem was finding a job.
He let himself cry for exactly thirty seconds. He jammed his face into the filthy pillow, letting the tears soak into the fabric, muffling his jagged breaths.
Then, he stopped.
He wiped his eyes aggressively with the back of his hand.
Crying wouldn't save him.
If this was the world he thought it was...the ruthless, grimdark Kanto fanfics he used to read, then weakness was a death sentence.
He put the MP3 player back into the Inventory space.
He needed to assess his situation.
Okay i have 100 points on this watch.
I have a knife.
I have a mask that hides who I really am.
He looked around the room again, analyzing it with a colder eye this time.
The kids nearby were stirring.
To his right, a boy with a shaved head was staring at the ceiling, looking hollow.
To his left, a group of three boys were already awake, whispering and checking their own watches.
They looked bigger, Meaner.
They had the look of slum kids who had learned to bite before they barked.
Gangs are already forming, Alex noted, his stomach tightening.
I'm alone, Small build and no allies.
He checked the watch again.
There was a menu for [Exchange].
He tapped the small side button.
* Pokéball: 200 Points
* Potion: 50 Points
* Antidote: 50 Points
* Rations (1 Week): 10 Points
* Fresh Water (1L): 2 Points
"Two hundred for a ball?" Alex hissed.
"I only have a hundred."
He was starting with a deficit.
That meant the rumors were true.
The organization didn't expect them to buy their way to success; they expected them to fight for it. Or steal it.
" Fuck even here those evil corporate are assholes" he thought.
"ATTENTION RECRUITS."
The screech of a PA system tore through the air, loud enough to make Alex wince.
"SELECTION DAY HAS BEGUN.
REPORT TO THE COURTYARD IN TEN MINUTES.
ANYONE LATE WILL BE LISTED AS AWOL AND TERMINATED."
The word Terminated hung in the air, cold and clinical.
The barracks exploded into chaos.
Four hundred teenagers scrambled out of their bunks at once.
The sound of metal springs creaking and boots hitting the concrete floor was deafening.
Alex jumped down from the top bunk, nearly twisting his ankle on the landing.
He grabbed his boots...heavy, black military-style stompers that were slightly too big for him and shoved his feet in, lacing them up with trembling fingers.
"Move it, runt!"
A shoulder slammed into Alex, sending him stumbling into the metal frame of the bed.
Alex gasped, pain shooting through his shoulder.
He looked up to see a tall, broad-shouldered boy with a scar cutting through his eyebrow pushing past him.
The boy didn't even look back.
Alex grit his teeth.
He wanted to shout, to curse, but he swallowed it down.
Keep your head down.
You are nobody, You are Ares.
He stood up, brushed the dust off his grey uniform, and joined the herd.
As he walked toward the massive blast doors at the end of the warehouse, he touched the mask on his face one last time.
It felt like skin.
But beneath it, Alex Hales was terrified.
Just survive, he told himself.
Get a Pokémon.
Get through today.
He stepped out into the pre-dawn light, the humid, tropical air of the island hitting him for the first time.
He didn't know it yet, but the boy who walked out of those doors would never be the same again.
Authors Note:-
Well i loved the pokemon rise of dark Pokemon so much, so a lot of inspirations from it.
Also a nod to Master of tactics.
You were a wonderful read rip!!.
Well everyone how was it .
Firstly I will be mass uploading many chapters as possible.
Add , collect and support with Power stones after i am vetted.