Zel, as he was known by his acquaintances, had once been content. It was before his untimely encounter with legendaries, before Sinnoh, around the time he had evolved into a zoroark. At that time he lived with his relatives in a secluded forest, in the Unova Region. The only landmarks were a couple of tall, twisting trees.

An illusion, the common theme surrounding his species, protected them from discovery.

Forty or so lived in his community. Adventurous spirit was not frowned upon; many had wandered outside and returned, recounting tales of a wonderful, thrilling world.

Zel, in hindsight, suspected that several of them had 'found' a trainer. It was weird for them to leave in a week's time after being absent for years. They had a reason.

To give away their location, that was an unforgivable sin.

Then, an old, yet cheerful, zoroark visited a fateful day. He sought a 'quiet retirement' as his trainer had died, he had said.

Sand, sand everywhere.

He woke up sneezing. It had found home in his nostrils. The air was loaded with marine odors.

It was hot and humid. Weird.

Zel remembered the angry stare of a swampert. There was a mountain. They had been reaching for the summit. It was cold, very cold. A cave. The swampert had kept staring. He didn't care, he just wanted to sleep.

Then, what happened then?

His thoughts were foggy. The sun must have gotten to him. He didn't remember it being sunny.

Right now too, he wanted to sleep. A pressing concern said otherwise, but the specifics escaped him.

"Sand sucks," said a voice he vaguely remembered. It was an human.

His heart raced, but his mind couldn't keep up.

"Which saaaa-" his voice came lighter than expected.

He froze. He tried again, "Aaand?"

No.

"Ah, you made it!" said the voice. "You turned into some bubble of glowy dust. I thought the dragon thing had disintegrated you or something."

"I made it?" A sense of impending doom was circling his mind. "Dragon? Disintegrated!?"

Saitama did not understand him. He continued, "But you are now, well, small. Is this normal for you?"

Zel got up. The ground remained too close. He turned to the voice, ignoring he had used all fours. One thing at a time.

It was painful; the sun was just behind the man. A moment passed before his eyes adjusted and recognition dawned. It was the 'man' with the ridiculous pajamas and a mean punch. The man who had inadvertently saved the timeline, and condemned both to the dragon's ire.

"Dialga," Zel muttered.

"Uh, uh," Saitama said. "I don't get a word of what you are saying. I don't think I'm supposed to be able to understand foxes, but somehow I could get what the big blue guy with the long neck said."

"I wasn't-" Zel started, rolling his eyes. That's besides the point, regardless.

He took a long look at the man. Besides his shiny scalp and pajamas, there was not much to him. His face held a dull expression, neither tense or relaxed.

To Zel, Saitama looked as stupid as the situation at hand. This was but a joke at his expense… at best.

"One is not supposed to one-hit knock-out the Spatial Pokemon, either. For all I know you are another legendary in disguise, getting a kick out of this. I hate all your dumb ploys. You are all a bunch of spoiled and immature twits, if not mentally crippled," Zel said. "There, I said it. Now end me or whatever. Make the metaphorical truth become literal."

"Wow, you can talk too! It's a bit different from that guy, though."

The bald man kept staring. "Uh, I didn't get everything," he finally said, "what's a legendary?"

"Nevermind." His anatomy didn't allow him to run his forelimb through his hair anymore.This is so infuriating, I'm getting depressed.

"I'll play along, because I have no choice. Let's say I believe your ignorance. Who are you, then? What do you remember?"

"I'm Saitama, a hero for-I'm a professional hero," he said. He noticed the look the tiny fox was giving him. "A human hero, I suppose? I have never heard of an 'animal hero' or a 'monster hero.' Now that would be something… weird."

Saitama paused, flicking some sand off his pajamas. "To be honest, I don't even know where to begin. I think it's enough to say that there was a lot of strange stuff below my apartment. Uh, what about you?"

"Zel. I am," Zel said, struggling to continue. "or rather was, a zoroark." He eyed Saitama, and spoke, "Zoroarks are a species of pokemon. Pokemon, does that word ring a bell?" He decided to store the 'professional hero' part for a later time.

"Nope," Saitama said with confidence. "What is that?"

"Will you make me recite the introductory speech pokemon professors give to aspiring trainers?"

"I have no idea what all that means," Saitama said. "But if it is not too long, I'm ok with any explanation."

"Alright." Zel sighed, looking around. The sun was overwhelming. "Follow me to the treeline. I dislike this much sunlight."

"Okay." Saitama said. It was a little strange, he thought. He was talking amicably to a tiny black fox, but he had seen more unusual stuff.

"Right, so all these anim-" He heard Zel grumbling, "creatures or beings are called Pokemon."

"Yes. You do listen."

"Then, they can do flashy stuff depending on their species."

Zel sighed, he didn't like leaving details out. "That's a gross, but correct enough, simplification."

"And people can befriend or capture pokemon to do work, or battle for fun? That's the strangest part yet."

Zel looked at the distant crashing waves of the sea. "I agree, but that's how it has been for a long time, all over the world. Makes one wonder where are you supposed to hail from."

"I live in city Z," he said. "Or lived, I dunno. The situation is dumb when your home has been buried whole."

"City Z, as in the letter Zee?"

Saitama shrugged. "Yep. It's the way it is. I never thought much about it. Sometimes, it makes getting around easier."

The zorua mulled over this inconsequential bit of information. "Wait, they named all cities after letters?"

"Yeah, there was this city that got a number but-"

"No!" It was a distant cry. "Don't take him away!"

"Wha-agh!" The zorua had his face washed with sand as the ground next to him exploded.

Saitama was gone. Judging by the evenly spaced craters, he had ran towards the cry.

Zel stood still, looking over the trench that Saitama's dash had left on the beach. He sneezed and shaked the sand off. It was a familiar but unwelcome feeling.

How curious.

He had little choice. To stick with this... anomaly, was his only chance to make progress for the time being. Thus far, the man had been fairly benign. Zel's reduced... strength compounded the problem. What are you playing at, Dialga?

A small grace was that not everything depended on brute strength.

Zel closed his eyes, reminiscing the first time he made an illusion. He smiled, the spark was there. His eyes opened to gaze on an apple, one only visible to him. It's color was a reddish orange, with a grainy bumpy texture: a perfectly imperfect apple.

He pressed it with a paw; it felt solid. The figment went drifting away, unbound to gravity.

His paw rested on the ground and the apple exploded into fireworks.

"Still got the easy parts nailed down," Zel said. He proceeded to follow the trail, struggling over the short span of his stride.

Zorua.

And now he was in the dumps again.

"Kid, just let it be," it was said.

"NO!" she screamed coarsely. "I won't give up! You can't take him! I promised!"

"Let go," he said. She wailed. "Stop screeching, or I will make you shut up!"

Her cries were somewhat strangled by the threat. "B-But Pepper-"

"Are you brain dead kid? Don't you see the black outfit? The menacing 'R' and all? I'm a bad guy, I steal and stuff, but I won't hold much against a little girl unless she insists on being a pest."

"You are the pest!" she said with the courage of a 11 year old girl holding on to the boot of a team rocket grunt.

He rolled his eyes and shook his feet. She flinched and let go, it had hurt more than she had expected.

"Now let me be a good thief-"

"Sup," said someone at his back.

He screamed, almost. It was an incoherent utterance, followed by an awkward jump. The thief quick turned towards the voice.

"Say, are you stealing from a little kid?"

The girl answered, "that guy is a stinky Pokemon thief! He took Pepper! Stop him!"

"Shut up stupid brat!" He was about to continue his tirade when he felt an iron grip on his shoulder. He returned his attention to the mystery man. At first glance, the guy was anything but intimidating.

"Hey, just stop… and who's Pepper?"

The thief's hand reached for a pokeball on his belt.

Yet, his eyes unnerved him. Had he no fear? He had no visible pokemon, and looked like he had just got out of bed. Probably a nutcase, the thief thought.

A click was heard. "Arbok, glare!" the thief ordered. The snake materialized.

The result was awkward. Saitama looked at the sudden apparition with mild curiosity, still holding the man by his shoulder. The arbok had kept staring, passing from confidence, to confusion and finally panic.

"What's wrong!? Make him seize up!"

The arbok had no way to tell him that she had already given her meanest look.

Finally, Saitama put his hand over his chin, thereby releasing the thief. "Do I have something on my face?"

The thief took a step away. "Wrap him!"

The arbok leaped at Saitama. It wasn't effective.

"So you are a pokemans?" Saitama said, holding the Arbok by the hood with both hands.

The arbok had enough, she was not the type to be defiant on lost causes. It was utterly uncomfortable, embarrassing and dumb. She dropped the attempt, turning towards her trainer as best as she could.

"What are you doing?!"

She gave him the look.

Are you stupid?

His trainer, loss at words, recalled her. He took a step backwards, and prepared to sprint away.

He felt a tiny hand sneaking around his belt.

His own hand was too slow. "Hey!"

The girl wasted no words. She ran.

"No!" He dashed a yard's distance before his chase was cut off. The same bald man had grabbed him by the collar. Startled, he tripped. He was let go, then he fell to the sand.

"I don't know what's going on but I guess you are the bad guy here." Saitama crossed his arms.

He looked at the source of his misfortune.

It was surreal, the man was as dopey as looks could get; yet, he felt an all encompassing oppression the moment he spoke. His pokemon had been effortlessly defeated, and the man had shown no fear, not even a flicker of excitement.

"I'm uh…ju-just, no, please" The thief could not concentrate but in his stare. It reminded him…

"Stop robbing, uh, pokemans," Saitama said, dissipating the tense atmosphere immediately. He turned, and went his merry way.

"Wait, that's all!?" he said.

"Well, yes, I'm a hero, not a police officer." Saitama said. "But don't do more criminal stuff."

"Hero? What?" It wasn't really a question.

"My job is to punch monsters who want to kill people. I don't like complex situations, just go and do whatever you think you should do now."

"If it were that easy…"

"That's your problem, man," Saitama said.

"...but I think if you really want to do different, you can do it."

Saitama was missing something. He had asked the black spandex guy where the next city was. He answered that he needed to follow the coast, but that he should try to leave the city before tomorrow night. Then, the thief plainly said goodbye and went hastily inland.

The weather was surely nice. He could see a port at the distance. Perhaps, he could find some udon there.

He instinctively reached for his wallet, and dismayed. Right, no pockets.

"Hmm…" He pondered. "Right. The fox!"

There was a whistling sound.

"Missed me? Hopefully not." Zel appeared next to him, looking weary. "You do walk fast."

"Ooops, I had forgotten. Sorry, I was a little hungry and asked the guy for directions. I guess I could invite you as an apology, but I don't even have money for myself."

"Is that all? Don't worry, I can get us some grub. But there's these things I want to talk you about."

"Can it wait, I have no patience on empty stomach."

Zel sighed. "Alright."

The trek went silently, with the tiny fox ruminating on the situation, and Saitama realizing he was basically homeless and moneyless.

"Oh no."

The author's notes: It is known that this chapter has structural similarities to the previous one. It was somewhat planned but it did not went as well as expected.

The zoroark's (or zorua's) name is actually a nickname. You may propose a change, along a backstory surrounding the name, because the author is not completely convinced.

The wispy ball transformation is a reference to the epilogues of some Pokemon Mystery Dungeon games (you know, those where the protagonist is a human transformed into a pokemon), where time travel is involved albeit in a different way. This might be expanded on, but much later.

The author apologizes if someone tried to comment as a guest or send a PM. A setting was not properly… set.Now it should be possible.

"Thanks for reading and reviewing. I see someone I recognize from another fiction site, but it might be a false positive. Does monkeys dancing in a circle from the past broken ring a bell?"

"Salutations to everyone."