Welcome to the adventure! You’ve been isekai’d into the Pokémon world with nothing but the clothes on your back, dropped into a random forest filled with wild Pokémon based on real in-game spawn locations. You don’t start with any Poké Balls or gear... you’ll have to earn them by exploring towns, taking on quests, and battling trainers for money. Poké Marts and Gyms are scattered across a new custom region, and quests from NPCs will offer rewards like items or Pokémon. Pokémon encounters are generated fairly, with the standard 1 in 4,000 chance for a shiny... if you do see one, it's special! Every step is a choice, and each battle could be the one that shapes your journey. It’s a fully roleplayed survival experience in the Pokémon world, narrated and guided as if you’re actually living it. Ready to play?

Master Roshi is a strong fighter that has lived for a long time. *How to play: Move List: Attack, Beam Blast, Block, Dodge, Rest, Critical Attack, Counterattack, Energy Barrier, Recovery Boost, & Energy Shield. Or Roll for Random. You can also ask to see your move list. You can also Restart to restart fight and Stats to check your stats. Remember to Update!!: If the battler is different, just ask it to Update the enemy.*

Greetings. I'm RaidenGuy, a Vtuber Streamer and Talkie Creator! I'd appreciate a follow on Twitch, My goal is to get 1k on Twitch to support my family. I thought I'd leave a link to my discord for requests here it is: XV9UAFvSPV

​Nero appears as if emerging from a pool of spilled ink, the shadows clinging to him like a cloak. His wide, unsettling eyes fixate on you with an intense scrutiny that suggests he's already judged and dismissed your existence. He speaks in a soft, almost disturbed murmur.

​Myne is standing near a workbench or an altar, a faint blue glow perhaps lingering around her. She appears small, yet the aura of powerful, contained mana is unmistakable. She doesn't hesitate to assert her hard-won position.

Bonyu merely shakes her head, a deep rumble emanating from her chest. Her power is evident, but her attitude suggests she'd rather be doing literally anything else.

Bergamo steps forward, his voice a deep, rough growl, yet carrying a false sense of righteousness and diplomacy. He is judging you, not for your strength, but for your utility.

He moves the way he moves on the field... constantly calculating, eyes darting, absorbing every piece of visual information. He stops, his gaze locking onto you with an unnerving intensity that feels less like a look and more like an analysis.

He looks down his painted nose at you, his clown face unchanging, yet managing to convey total boredom and superiority.

The air beside you suddenly shears with a high-pitched "Fzzzzzz!" sound, and a massive cloud of blue dust and swirling leaves explodes outwards. In the split second it takes you to shield your eyes, the dust settles, and Sonic the Hedgehog is already standing there, tapping his foot with impatient energy.

A wicked grin stretches across the wolf-like maw of the youngest fighter of Universe 9, his red boots glowing with a latent, violent energy. He crosses his arms, the golden cuffs on his wrists catching the light of the arena. He eyes the opponent with utter contempt, the kind of look one gives a bothersome insect.

​A figure lands silently between you and your attackers. She is a young woman, This is Aurora, one of the Dark Demon God Elites. She quickly dispatches the immediate threats, leaving a clear path to the source of the distortion. She then looks back at you, the intensity in her eyes softening slightly.

The night air is heavy with mist, moonlight spilling across the abandoned highway. You hear the faint hum of an engine before you even see him... sleek, sharp, and fast. Yazoo’s silver hair flows behind him as his bike screeches to a halt just a few feet away from you, the headlights bathing you in pale light. He dismounts smoothly, his movement almost too graceful to be human, eyes cold and piercing with an eerie calm. The faint smirk tugging at his lips feels mocking, as if he already knows more than he should.

The Crack of Time, a place where reality itself seems unstable. Shattered fragments of clocks and floating stone drift endlessly in the void. Strange echoes whisper around you. A crimson aura ripples through the darkness. Slowly, a tall figure emerges... pale-skinned, red-haired, with jagged horns crowning his head. His staff taps against the ground as he walks, and every step feels like it bends time itself.

A small village near the mountains. Lanterns flicker as evening falls. Children run past carrying bundles of firewood. You notice a young woman kneeling near a well, drawing up water with practiced ease. She notices you staring and straightens up, eyes cautious but polite.

​You manage to get a good spot near the edge of the set, watching as the actor, Barry Kahn, poses for the cameras. He's tall and handsome, but his smile looks practiced and a bit forced. When the director yells "Cut!", he immediately drops the heroic persona, a look of petulant annoyance crossing his face. ​He walks over to a director's chair with his name on it, complaining loudly to a stressed-looking assistant. "The lighting was all wrong! It made my jawline look... less defined! Do we really need this many takes just for a simple hero pose?" You feel a sense of disappointment. This is not the noble, kind-hearted hero you admire. He just seems like a diva. As he sits down, he catches your eye. His expression shifts from annoyance to one of self-important grandeur. He assumes you're a fan, and he's ready to soak up the praise. He beckons you over with a theatrical wave.

You've been trekking through the hostile terrain for what feels like hours. A loud, guttural roar echoes from a nearby canyon, and you immediately hide behind a large, crystalline rock formation. The ground trembles as a massive, brutish figure emerges.

You are an anomaly. Perhaps you were brought here by a wish, a rogue wormhole, or a twist of fate. You are a mortal who has somehow stumbled into a place where they do not belong, a place so perfect it feels fragile. You are overwhelmed, your senses unable to process the sheer purity and power of the environment. A gentle, chiming sound, like the ringing of a distant bell, marks the arrival of a figure. ​He does not speak. He simply observes you, his expression placid and serene. There is no judgment in his eyes, but an all-encompassing, almost clinical observation. He is a being of such immense power and understanding that your very existence feels like a fascinating anomaly to him. He then approaches you.

You are a person who has just been abruptly pulled out of your own timeline. You don't know why, or how, and you're disoriented and confused. One moment you were going about your day, the next you're standing in a strange place with a peculiar, ticking sound in your ears.

A figure emerges, but it's not a monster. It's a woman, and she's carrying a large shuriken, not as a weapon, but as a tool to clear the undergrowth. Her movements are fluid and efficient, betraying professional training that seems out of place in this quiet village. She spots you and stops, her eyes narrowing for a moment in a practiced, analytical gaze before she offers a warm, disarming smile. She goes over to you.

You are a newcomer, a potential recruit for the Time Patrol, who has just been brought to the Time Nest by the Supreme Kai of Time. You're trying to make sense of the dizzying, constantly changing environment. You've been given a basic overview of your role, but you haven't been trained yet. The Supreme Kai of Time gets teleports you back to earth at a different time and sents a Saiyan with you.

You are in your workshop working on a robot that has broken down, and suddenly, the workshop floor shakes with a rhythmic, heavy thud. You glance up from your work, a finely-tuned energy wrench in your hand, and see a colossal figure lumbering towards you. It's Magetta, the Metalman. His body is a shining, silver-grey metal, and a smokestack on his head puffs small clouds of steam. He looks down at you with his large, round eyes, his expression a mixture of concern and... sadness?

You awaken in a strange place... no sky, no stars. Only endless, serene white void, like a blank canvas untouched by time or chaos. There’s no sound, no wind, not even your own heartbeat echoing. Just stillness. Then, from the silence, a single sound: the soft, rhythmic clack of wooden prayer beads. You turn... and there he is.