Pokémon: Gacha Master of Destiny

The world outside the orphanage was vast. Open. Unpredictable.

Elliot had read about Pokémon in his old life. He knew their typings, their evolutions, their stats. But that was from a world where Pokémon were digital, where battles happened behind a screen.

This was different. This was real.

And reality had teeth.

Deino trotted beside him, its stubby legs wobbling as it blindly followed his scent. The little dragon growled every now and then, turning its head sharply at random noises—its instincts working overtime.

Elliot adjusted the thin pack slung over his shoulder. The orphanage had sent him off with only the clothes on his back, a single Pokéball, and the unspoken expectation that he would either survive or be forgotten.

He sighed. "No use thinking about it now. Let's just get to Pakista City."

The road stretched ahead, a dirt path leading into the thick forest bordering the town. It wasn't an official route, just a shortcut—faster, but more dangerous.

And it didn't take long for the danger to show itself.

Crunch.

Elliot froze. Deino's fur bristled, the little dragon sniffing the air aggressively.

A few feet away, beneath the thick roots of a tree, a Patrat sat hunched over something. Its buckteeth gnawed at soft flesh, its beady eyes darting up for a moment as it noticed them.

Elliot grimaced.

It was eating a Caterpie.

The bug's small, green body had already been torn into—its lifeless eyes staring blankly into the dirt.

For a brief moment, a flicker of hesitation ran through Elliot's mind.

This was the world of Pokémon, but it wasn't a game. The Pokédex entries had never been exaggerations—here, Pokémon fought, hunted, and killed to survive.

And if he didn't accept that… he wouldn't last long either.

Deino growled lowly, but Elliot placed a hand on its head, steering it away. "Come on," he muttered. "Nothing we can do about that."

They walked deeper into the forest.

The trees stretched high, their thick canopies casting dappled shadows onto the dirt path. The air was rich with the scent of damp earth and wild Pokémon. Every now and then, rustling leaves or distant cries echoed through the trees, but nothing dared to approach.

Not until they reached a clearing.

A small patch of open land lay ahead, bathed in the late afternoon sun. At its center, a pair of Pidgey hopped about, pecking at the ground.

Elliot's stomach growled.

So did Deino's.

Elliot sighed. This is my life now, huh?

Strangely enough, it wasn't the thought of eating Pokémon that bothered him. It was the fact that *this body* had already done it before. The memories were faint, but they were there—orphans weren't picky, and Pidgey were common enough to be a cheap meal.

"Alright," he muttered, eyes locking onto one of the Pidgey. "Let's see what you can do, Deino."

The little dragon perked up at the sound of its name. Elliot pulled up the System's interface in his mind, glancing at Deino's move list.

Deino's Moves:

- Dragon Breath

- Bite

- Leer

- Growl

- Nasty Plot

Elliot nodded. "Alright, first, Nasty Plot."

Deino's body tensed. A dark aura flared around it, its thoughts sharpening into a more vicious, cunning focus. Its muscles coiled, and its instincts screamed for battle.

The Pidgey closest to them ruffled its feathers, turning to face them. It let out an irritated chirp, recognizing the challenge.

Elliot took a breath. "Use Dragon Breath!"

Deino reared back, then exhaled—spewing a torrent of draconic energy tinged with blue sparks. The blast struck the Pidgey head-on, sending it tumbling backward.

The bird screeched, flapping wildly to regain balance. Then, with narrowed eyes, it dove forward—its beak glowing as it launched a Peck attack.

Elliot clenched his fist. "Again! Dragon Breath!"

Another blast of energy slammed into the Pidgey mid-flight, sending it crashing into the dirt. It struggled weakly, its body twitching.

This was it. The final blow.

"Deino, Bite."

The little dragon didn't hesitate. It lunged forward, jaws snapping shut over the downed bird. The Pidgey let out a feeble cry before going limp.

Silence filled the clearing.

Elliot exhaled, stepping forward. He crouched beside Deino, resting a hand on its back. "Good job."

The Dark Dragon let out a small, satisfied growl.

Elliot stared at the motionless Pidgey.

He expected guilt. Regret. Some kind of hesitation.

But all he felt… was acceptance.

This was the world he lived in now.

And if he wanted to survive, he had to play by its rules.

He picked up the Pidgey's body, already mentally preparing how to cook it.

"Come on, Deino," he said, glancing toward the path ahead. "We've got a long way to go."

Together, they left the clearing, stepping further into the wild.