It was a wonderful, almost idyllic day. The waves gently lapped against the sand on the beach, leaving a soft salty fragrance in the air. Warm rays of sunlight illuminated the sea water, making it shimmer and look much pure than anything I'd ever seen.
Some rather cartoonish crabs milled about the beach, and what I could only rationalize as Tentacools swam peacefully in the crystal-clear waters, like the pests they were. Seagulls I assumed were Wingulls squawked happily in the distance, occasionally accompanied by a much deeper squawk that I expected to be a Pelipper.
Nothing seemed strange, at least by the standards of this world. Nothing seemed out of place… except the half-buried corpse of a girl lying next to a toy shovel.
That was me. Both were me. To be precise, the body was what I had once been, and the shovel what I had become.
With a small shake, the pile of dirt that the toy shovel sat on rose and formed the amorphous figure of a slime… of sand… with a large hole in its center and white stones where the eyes would be… Okay, maybe I didn't look like a slime at all, but the functionality was the same.
Shaking my head (?), I focused my shovel on the decaying body and wondered for the eighteenth time since I woke up on that beach how this had happened.
It had been a normal day, for the most part. I had stayed up until the wee hours of the morning playing the latest Pokemon game. A very productive way to spend my vacation, no doubt.
The game wasn't as terrible as the reviews made it out to be, though I don't think it was worth the price.
The graphics looked like they wanted to stab my eyes, bugs were a thing, and the overall level of polish left a lot to be desired (I'll never forget that sandwich-eating animation). However, at least I had fun for a whole week, and that's was something most of the fangames and hackroms I had played never achieved.
That last battle against the professor/AI/paradise protection protocol had been a very refreshing and somewhat challenging experience, leaving me with a smile on my face as the game's credits rolled and I went to find a quick late-night snack before going to sleep. Unfortunately, my plans were cut short when, as I opened the fridge, an iridescent ring appeared under my feet and left me, ironically, falling from the sky like in the opening of digimon on the beach of an abandoned island.
After that, I only remember letting out a long list of expletives aimed at a God I hope is benevolent, my head crashing into the sand, everything going dark (not just because of my best ostrich performance) and discovering, to my horror and fascination, that I had turned into a Sandygast… right next to my own dead body.
That hadn't been a very good first impression, to be honest. 2/10, at least the views while falling from the clouds had been nice.
Refocusing, I stared into the hollow, lifeless eyes of what recently had been my head and considered my options. I hadn't paid much attention to the island during my impromptu flight, being a bit busy cursing a certain cosmic llama and a certain portal-loving djinn, but from what I recall, this island didn't have a single building and the most striking thing I could see was a lake at its center.
So, I was stranded on a desert island, transformed into a pokemon weak to water, without any possibility of fly, and a whopping 15 speed base points; slower than, literally, a rock with arms.
Wonderful.
Not wanting to see only the bad side of… death, I guess, I tried to see the positive side. Being in the "Pokemon World" seemed like a dream come true, to be honest. Giving up my lonely, monotonous office girl life in exchange for exploring a fantasy world full of magical creatures and amazing places was a pretty good deal in my books.
Sure, I still have to see how such a world translates into harsh real life, but even the Tentacools seemed super chill… Suppressing a shiver I was pretty sure a pile of sand shouldn't be able to have, I tried to come up with some kind of plan for the future.
If there was one good thing about being a Sandygast it was that I didn't need to eat, so my continued survival was not in danger. The world itself was alive, wisps of what looked like aura drifting off of pokemon and permeating everything.
Earth, water, plants, air… everything was filled with that strange vital energy that sustained my existence.
Although that was only sustainable if I did nothing.
Every little movement required a bit of this energy, even staying in my normal pokemon form did. Absorbing this energy, ironically, also cost a bit of it, so the efficiency was almost negative.
Seeing that, in my current state I only had two options. Actively "hunt" with my poor mobility, or go into my pile of sand form and wait for who knows how long, all in order to accumulate enough energy to be something more than a misshapen sand castle on a deserted beach.
Both methods were terrible, but one was clearly more likely to succeed than the other, as well as being much safer and morally acceptable.
Resigned, I finished burying my own corpse in the sand, placed myself on top of it to protect it, and prepared to begin my ancient Shaolin training, collapsing into a pile of sand and gathering vital energy with my trusty toy shovel.
I don't know how much time passed, the days became blurred at some point.
From time to time, an unsuspecting Corphish would wander into my ever-expanding absorption range, and I'd get a taste of its energy before it unleashed the famous Joestar technique, running as fast as its tiny legs would carry it.
I soon discovered a little trick; emerging from underground in their faces always astonish them, leaving them stunned long enough to absorb a little more than usual. During the periods when nothing was happening, I practiced my sand-bending, managing to form small cyclones that immobilized the poor crustaceans, allowing me to absorb even more of their aura before they fled in terror.
The feeling was somewhat addictive, the buildup of power seemed to be ingrained in the minds of each Pokemon. That's why I wasn't too surprised when a particularly large Corphish challenged me to a battle.
No, seriously. He said to me:
—¡Cor corphi-cor!
Wise words from a venerable red crustacean.
My poke-mind automatically translated it to something like "leave my brothers alone, bitch!", but I was unable to take Mr. Krabs seriously. Maybe I should have, since the bubble beam he fired at me really hurt.
At least it served to prove that games' abilities were a thing here, sort of. The area of my body that the bubbles hit absorbed the water, becoming denser, firmer, and indirectly increasing my defense.
Seeing that Mr. Krabs was serious, I didn't hold back and unleashed my absorb at full power, which at this point I was pretty sure had turned into mega drain. With practiced ease, my sand tomb enveloped him as well, preventing him from running away or taking distance to blast me with another bubble beam.
Leaving only one path open, the crustacean lunged at me with determination. Dark energy pulsed through his claw, swinging it towards my trusty shovel toy in an attempt to knock off me. Knowing his plan, I further endured the previously wet area of my body, using it as a shield to hold off the surprised Corphish and taking advantage of the opening to attack his eyes with sand.
Desperate, blinded and almost exhausted, both of Mr. Krabs' pincers lit up with a brilliant white glow, delivering a powerful double hit from both sides that passed through me… like the little ghost that I was, leaving me unharmed.
Now completely exhausted, the unexpectedly dramatic lobster fell onto his stomach, limp, and said:
—Cor cor… Corphish…
…
Okay, I swear on my shovel this will be the last time I make that joke, but it was too good an opportunity to pass up. Now seriously, he (don't ask me how I know it's a he, I just know) said:
—Please, take my life if you want, but don't involve my siblings in this…
At that, I stared at him for a few moments, stunned, and I could only say:
—What are you talking about, dummy?
—Don't seek revenge against my family? —he asked in turn, also sounding confused.
—Why would I do that? And why should I end your life? —I responded, sounding even more confused and tilting a little my head… torso… whatever.
A breeze blew some sand nearby, accentuating the awkward silence.
—I think there's been a misunderstanding —I said, trying to lighten the mood—. Bad decisions have been made.
—True —the crustacean murmured, seeming to have regained enough strength to stand up—. I shouldn't have been so hasty. I'm sorry for attacking you immediately without first trying to talk.
—Apologies accepted. I shouldn't have absorbed so much energy from your brothers either… or used sand tomb on them.
—Good —the Corphish agreed, happily—. So… friends?
—Friends —I agreed as well, trying to smile with the gap that was my mouth with dubious success—. Anyway, why did you attack me so suddenly? It's not that I didn't deserve it, but I don't think my acts bothered you enough to justify an immediate attack.
—In retrospect it's a bit silly… —he began, sounding a little uncomfortable, trying to find the right words—. You're a Sandygast, right?
—In shovel and sand! —I exclaimed, curious to know where the conversation was going.
—I don't want to offend, but your kind are known for destroying entire beaches, absorbing all the life that inhabits them and eventually becoming Beach Nightmares —Mr. Krabs explained, looking much calmer than his aura revealed—. When my brothers told me that such a monster had appeared on the coast, I had no choice but to gather courage and try to stop you before it was too late.
—Honestly… that sounds pretty stupid —I blurted out without thinking.
—Excuse me?
—I'm not talking about your resolution, that sounds amazing —I clarified to the offended lobster—. I'm talking about absorbing all the life on the beach. That would be counterproductive at best.
—What is that due to? —asked the now curious Corphish, taking a seat in the sand when he saw that the conversation was going to be long.
—My kind needs living things on the beach to thrive. Eliminating them all wouldn't be the end of us, but it would make our growth impossible. Not to mention the obvious moral problems that would entail, eliminating or driving away all life on the beach would be detrimental at best… and an absolute hell at worst.
—Uh?
—Just imagine. You are an immortal being, restricted to a fairly small area by limitations in mobility. It would be incredibly boring to be there, alone, for the rest of eternity, wouldn't it?
—Now that you mention it… I wouldn't want to be in your place, Sandygast —he said, more thoughtful and reflective than a lobster had any right to be.
Since I arrived in the Poke-world, I hadn't stopped to think about what my existence had become. I didn't want to think about what I'd lost. My life as an office girl had been lonely, but this one was shaping up to be even worse in that regard.
My memories were also stranger than I had initially thought.
My personality and wit seemed intact, not that there was much of that to begin with. I could also remember that Corphish learned night slash at level 28 and had a decent 65 base defense, but I doubted if that would be very useful for now, since I had no way to verify my information.
On the other hand, I couldn't remember my family, or my friends, or even my own name… although at least I could fix that last bit.
—Please, call me Sandy —I replied, regaining my spirit a little.
—So, Sandy —he began, trying out the name and hesitating a bit before deciding to change the subject—, will you please stop sucking the life out of my family?
—That's a hard one to answer —I evaded—. I can promise to stop using sand tomb on them and limit the amount I absorb from each, but I can't stop doing it completely.
—I figured as much, but it was worth a try. It's like asking you to stop eating… —he said with a sigh—. That doesn't seem fair of my part, there must be a better solution.
—If you bring me berries, I guess I could feed on them. I'm not agile enough to get them on my own. I could also collapse into a pile of sand and absorb the life energy from the environment… Although that wouldn't help me achieve my goals.
—Goals? —Mr. Krabs asked, curious about my dreams—. Do you have goals beyond just live?
—Of course —I replied, almost indignant—. I want to get stronger, evolve, and eventually leave this beach to explore the world.
—I see, it sounds like what any pokemon with the aspiration of having a trainer would say… —he said, confirming the existence of humans in this world and easing my doubts about if I had ended up in the spin-off of Mysterious Dungeon—. Wait a minute. There's something I've been wondering since our battle. Are you a trained pokemon?
—Why would you think that? —I answered with my own question, curious to know how he had come to that conclusion.
—There are many reasons. The first is that there has never been a Sandygast on this beach. In fact, we only learned what you are thanks to a gossipy Wingull… I'll have to ask her some questions later… —he muttered, ominously—. The second is that you don't act like a wild pokemon, you're much more civilized than most of my siblings, at least. The third is that you have a name, which is quite rare for a pokemon without a trainer. Lastly, the fourth and most damning in my eyes; you fight too well for a wild pokemon.
—Uh… —I sighed, thinking of a way to argue with his claims—. The first could be due to misinformation, and there's always a first time for everything. The second is that I have some common sense and basic decency. The third… I literally just made up my name, believe it or not. And the fourth… I'm a super battle genius?
—Very humble, isn't it? —he said, snapping his claws as he let out a hearty laugh—. I can buy the first, second and third reason from you, Sandy, but not the fourth. Not to brag, but I am the strongest Corphish in my colony, so I am quite aware of my capabilities. I have the type advantage, if I'm not mistaken, and I was also the first to attack, but all of that wasn't enough to even make you break a sweat. You beat me in such a one-sided way that I find hard to believe you haven't been trained, so, where is your trainer?
—I don't really have a trainer, it's just that my circumstances are… somewhat unique.
—Tell me about them then. We have aaall day.
—…Fine… I think it will be easier if I just show you something, but you have to promise me that you will stay calm and let me explain things before you do anything, understood?
—Crystalline, Captain —he replied, making a mocking salute with his right claw. However, I could see that he only did it to reassure me, as the seriousness in his eyes was difficult to hide, and the glow in his aura did not lie.
Hesitating one last time, I wondered if showing him my corpse was really a good idea.
On the one hand, this poor Corphish didn't have to bear my far-fetched origin story, and I didn't owe him anything either. On the other hand… he was the first being in this world who had stopped for a moment to listen to me, despite the initial conflict, and he had literally asked for it, so he couldn't complain about my unconventional methods of explaining things…
Dispelling my doubts, I stepped aside and, using my increasingly powerful sand-bending, unearthed what was left of my corpse, much to Mr. Krabs's surprise and horror. Of my old body, only the bones remained, which gleamed under the intense rays of the sun, much more polished and clean than they should have been after being dug out of the sand.
Had it been so long? Had my indiscriminate use of absorb affected my corpse?
—Holy Arceus, Sandy! Would it have killed you to say something before pulling a damn corpse out of the ground?! —the Corphish shrieked, scampering back and forth before freezing in place—. Wait, those are human bones. Was that your trainer?! Sandy, what did you do?!
As much as I delighted in his terror (which was worrying, but ghost stuff, I guess), I felt I needed to clear this up before it got out of control.
—Calm down, Mr. Krabs. You promised me you'd listen to me before you did anything.
—Mr. Krabs? —he asked, replacing much of his panic with confusion.
—Oops, did I say that out loud? Anyway, she wasn't my trainer —I said, pointing at the pile of bones with my misshapen sand appendage—. She… She was me.
…
—What?
