She was never a trainer.
Never a hero, never chosen, never special.
On Earth, she was a quiet, obsessive scholar — a young woman who devoted her life to studying Pokémon as if they were real. She catalogued every Pokédex entry, dissected every region's lore, and chased the patterns that tied myth to biology. It was her comfort, her obsession, her reason to keep going in a world that never seemed to need her.
Then the fire came.
And when she opened her eyes again, she wasn't on Earth anymore.
The forests were too green. The air was too alive. And lying half-buried in the mud before her was something that should not exist outside a screen — an injured Miraidon, humming with faint light.
Trapped in the world she once only studied, she must confront the gulf between knowledge and understanding, between fascination and empathy. Every Pokémon she meets challenges what she thought she knew — because here, they are not data. They are alive.
As she begins to document and survive in this living Paldea, her old identity begins to fracture.
She was once "the researcher."
Now she must ask herself:
When the subject of study looks back — what does "I, Research" really mean?
Never a hero, never chosen, never special.
On Earth, she was a quiet, obsessive scholar — a young woman who devoted her life to studying Pokémon as if they were real. She catalogued every Pokédex entry, dissected every region's lore, and chased the patterns that tied myth to biology. It was her comfort, her obsession, her reason to keep going in a world that never seemed to need her.
Then the fire came.
And when she opened her eyes again, she wasn't on Earth anymore.
The forests were too green. The air was too alive. And lying half-buried in the mud before her was something that should not exist outside a screen — an injured Miraidon, humming with faint light.
Trapped in the world she once only studied, she must confront the gulf between knowledge and understanding, between fascination and empathy. Every Pokémon she meets challenges what she thought she knew — because here, they are not data. They are alive.
As she begins to document and survive in this living Paldea, her old identity begins to fracture.
She was once "the researcher."
Now she must ask herself:
When the subject of study looks back — what does "I, Research" really mean?
-
Last edited: