Pokémon Mystery Dungeon: Perceptual Cosmos

Chapter One: Waking Up

Bright flashes, colours, static, shapes and sounds rolling in an incoherent cacophony-

Huh. Was I dreaming?

Somewhere between slumber and awakening, Sal laid in a comfortable sleepiness, the last remnants of the harsh vision quickly slipping away from his mind. He could feel a gentle breeze on his scales, hear stirring grass and rustling leaves as it passed by, and he could taste the refreshing scents of sun-warmed greenery.

Did he remember falling asleep here? No. But, did it matter at the moment? Probably not.

As he dozily began to consider basking there in the sun indefinitely, a rhythm of unsteady footsteps jolted him out of his haze, moving closer and closer to where he was laying. They seemed to hesitate, whoever they were, pausing nearby and not yet saying anything, but it seemed from their continued presence and continued nervous breathing, that they had no intentions of simply leaving Sal be. Seconds passed. Their shallow breaths continued. Sal sighed, dramatically.

"What's up?" He didn't open his eyes, nor get up. Perhaps, if he could convince this stranger to leave, he could continue basking for a while.

"I, um..." They coughed and cleared their throat. "E-excuse me, are you okay?"

"...What?"

"It's just, I don't think I've seen you around before, and I don't normally see any Charmander around here, and I..."

Sal scoffed. "A Charmander?" Opening his eyes, he finally rolled to his feet. "I'm not a Charmander, I'm..."

Orange skin. Stubby claws. Having caught sight of his arms and hands, he blinked, wearily. He rubbed his eyes, even. His limbs were still orange. And lo and behold, when he turned to check behind him, a small flame flickered on the tip of his orange tail.

"...Why am I a Charmander?"

"Aww, gee, well..." The stranger awkwardly scratched at their blue head feathers. "That's a bit too much of a philosophical question for me..."

"No, I mean..." Sal spluttered, turning back around and nearly tripping over himself. "I don't think I'm meant to be a Charmander."

The stranger tilted their head, frowning in confusion and concern. "...I don't think you're okay. Umm, I think there's a village nearby, if you need help with stuff..."

They awkwardly shuffled on their webbed feet. Sal simply stared at them.

"...Who are you, anyway?" Sal asked. "What are you, even?"

"Oh!" The stranger gasped, white wing-hands clasped in front of them. "I'm Splashy!" They hopped for emphasis, nearly falling over in the process and giggling between wheezes. "I'm, umm, a Quaxly? I think?"

"...Okay, listen," said Sal. "Splashy."

"That's me!"

"Never mind what's going on with me. You seem... kind of confused," he continued, eyeing the wobbly, wheezing duck. "And I kind of don't like how your breathing sounds right now."

"My... throat feels really dry," Splashy said, nodding with a bashful smile. "And my legs feel... weird."

"Right. So, how about we both go to... wherever you think that village is, together?"

"Together?" Splashy gasped, near-stumbling again in surprise.

"I mean, yeah?" Sal said, shrugging. "You're the only person I've seen so far, and I wouldn't just ditch ya."

"T-together..." Their eyes sparkled, as if the mere motion of hanging out with Sal was enough to bring them to tears.

"Uhh... yeah." He carefully stepped through the grass and offered Splashy an arm to lean on, hoping to prevent any more trips and stumbles. "Oh, and my name's... Sal, I think."

"Uwaa... th-thank you... Sal." They gratefully leaned on Sal, quietly blubbering and sniffling as they began to walk together.

"Hey now, try not to dehydrate yourself any further," he half-joked, patting Splashy on the back. "We've gotta make it to that village, remember?"

"Together!" they said, nodding happily.

"Yeah... together."

He still had no idea what was happening, or what he had even gotten himself into. He didn't yet have time to even wonder how he had woken up in the middle of nowhere. But at the very least, Sal knew he wasn't alone.