Pokémon: The Gaming System

A/N: Guys I need your help. Can you please leave 5-stars review on this fanfic? as you can see it doesn't show rating yet and to get that I need many reviews so please help me with it.

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I woke up and went through my usual morning rituals—washing up, brushing my teeth, and getting dressed. The faint aroma of stale coffee from the Pokémon Center's common area drifted into my room, a familiar scent that grounded me in the present.

Today was going to be huge, a day that would fundamentally shift the landscape of my journey. The air felt charged with anticipation, a silent hum of destiny.

I had made up my mind, a decision that had been brewing in the back of my mind since the system patch. There was no going back now, no second-guessing. The risks were there, certainly, but the potential rewards far outweighed them in my estimation.

This wasn't just about winning battles; it was about rewriting the rules, about claiming a power that was, by all accounts, beyond the reach of ordinary trainers.

Today, I was going to get a legendary Pokémon. The thought sent a thrill through me, a mixture of apprehension and pure, unadulterated excitement.

It was a bold move, perhaps even reckless, but something about this new, unpredictable system made me feel daring. The very notion felt like a secret whispered only to me, a privilege no one else could comprehend.

And not just any legendary—I'd decided on Moltres. One of the more "common" legends, sure, but still powerful, majestic, and awe-inspiring.

Its fiery presence, its iconic status in the Pokémon world, had always captivated me. Moltres had always been a personal favorite from the trio, a symbol of raw, untamed power, a blazing beacon in the sky.

Plus, I figured it was safe. It's not like some god-like balance-obsessed Pokémon overlord would come smite me for catching a firebird. At least, that was my hope, a desperate plea to the unseen forces governing this strange reality.

I rationalized it: Moltres wasn't a world-ender, just a really, really strong bird. And frankly, after the save file incident, I felt like I was owed a little cosmic leniency.

And besides, the Pokémon from my Gaming System were 100% loyal to me. This was a crucial point, a bedrock of my understanding of this bizarre situation.

Their unwavering devotion was something I had tested, something I implicitly trusted. It gave me a foundation of confidence in my most audacious plans. It was a loyalty that transcended the digital and physical, a bond I felt deep in my core.

How did I know? Simple. I asked them. Just a few days prior, after the save data scare, I had quietly posed the question to Treecko, Torchic, and Mudkip, looking into their eyes for any hesitation. Their reactions were immediate and unanimous. There was no doubt, no flicker of uncertainty in their gazes.

All three of them nodded without hesitation. No overthinking needed, no complex psychological analysis required.

Their loyalty was pure, a simple, undeniable fact that resonated deep within me. It was a bond forged not just in battle, but in the shared experience of this unfolding mystery. It was a silent, powerful affirmation that they were truly mine.

With that assurance, I went into the system, activated the cheat code for infinite Master Balls, and grabbed 99 of them. The familiar interface shimmered before me, a gateway to unimaginable power.

The Master Balls materialized in my inventory with a satisfying clink, their iconic purple and pink design a promise of instant capture. It felt almost too easy, a cheat code for reality itself.

Then I entered a grassy area in the game, a nondescript patch of digital wilderness far from any major cities. I toggled the Moltres encounter cheat, a line of code executed with a silent command. And waited, my heart thumping a nervous rhythm against my ribs. The digital wind rustled the virtual grass, and the air seemed to thicken with anticipation.

Moments later, there it was—Moltres, majestic and burning in digital glory. It erupted onto the screen in a flash of fiery orange and red, its wings spread wide, a living inferno.

The sheer visual impact, even in pixelated form, was breathtaking, a testament to its legendary status. Its cry, a digital roar, vibrated through the system's speakers.

I caught it instantly with a single Master Ball, the iconic sphere soaring through the air and engulfing the legendary bird in a flash of light. The capture was flawless, instantaneous, a testament to the Master Ball's infallible power.

The screen confirmed the capture, and a triumphant chime echoed through the system. It was done. Just like that.

Saved the game, a crucial step I wouldn't forget this time, and closed the system. The glowing interface flickered out, and the digital world receded.

The silence of my room returned, but it was quickly broken by a new, tangible presence. The air still felt warm, as if the digital flames had left a lingering heat.

The moment I did, a new Pokéball materialized in my real-world inventory—just like always. It wasn't just a Pokéball; it was the Master Ball, its distinctive colors gleaming in my palm.

It felt heavier than the others, imbued with the immense power it now contained. A faint warmth radiated from its surface.

A Master Ball. Containing Moltres. The reality of it settled over me, a profound, almost overwhelming sensation.

I held a legend, a creature of myth and fire, in the palm of my hand. The implications were staggering, exhilarating. It was like holding a piece of the sun, contained and obedient.

Without wasting a second, I left my room, went to Nurse Joy, and checked out of the Pokémon Center. My voice was calm, almost too calm, as I thanked her.

Her usual cheerful farewell seemed distant, a mere formality in the face of what I now possessed. My mind was already miles away, planning the next steps.

I wasn't planning on staying here anymore. No point. Pewter City had served its purpose, a temporary base of operations.

My journey was about to take a dramatic turn, and this humble Pokémon Center was no longer suitable for my ambitions. It was time to move on to bigger, bolder things.

I was done with Pewter City—for now. The familiar streets, the imposing gym, the friendly faces—they all faded into the background as my focus shifted.

My sights were set on something far grander, something that required solitude and space. 

I took the ball and made my way toward a rocky mountain range nearby. It was a secluded, hard-to-reach area, far from any roads or towns. The terrain grew rougher with each step, the air thinner, but I barely noticed the exertion.

My mind was singularly focused. The ascent was steep, but my excitement propelled me forward.

No people. No prying eyes. This was paramount. The last thing I needed was someone witnessing the raw, untamed power I was about to unleash.

Such a sight would cause panic, chaos, and unwanted attention. My secret had to remain just that. The fewer witnesses, the better.

Perfect. I found a wide, relatively flat plateau, surrounded by jagged peaks that scraped the sky. The wind howled softly, a natural guardian against intrusion. This was the place, the perfect stage for my grand reveal. The silence was absolute, broken only by the whistling wind.

Then I released it. The Master Ball flew from my hand, arcing through the crisp mountain air. It burst open in a flash of brilliant white light, momentarily eclipsing the sun.

The air crackled with energy, and the temperature around me soared. It was like a miniature supernova, contained within the mountain vastness.

Moltres. The firebird appeared in front of me, wings blazing with searing flames, yet radiating majestic calm. It was even more magnificent than its digital counterpart, a creature of pure, elemental fire.

Its eyes, ancient and wise, met mine with an unnerving intensity. Its golden feathers shimmered, each one a tiny flame.

Though its level was low—just 20—it didn't matter. Its raw power was evident, even at this nascent stage. It was a fledgling legend, but a legend nonetheless.

The system had given me the creature, and now it was up to me to unlock its full potential. I could feel the immense power coiled within its form.

I fed it rare candies one by one, watching it grow stronger and stronger. Each candy dissolved into its fiery form, causing its aura to pulse brighter, its flames to burn hotter.

It absorbed the experience with a silent, almost reverent grace, its form growing subtly more defined with each level. The growth was almost visible, a shimmering expansion of its fiery essence.

By the time I stopped, it was over level 80. Just like that. The process was astonishingly fast, a blur of light and power.

Moltres now stood before me, a towering inferno of feathers and flame, its presence dominating the entire plateau. The air shimmered around it from the intense heat, making the distant peaks appear wavy.

There's something indescribable about having a legendary Pokémon in real life. The heat, the aura, the pressure of power.

It wasn't just a strong Pokémon; it was a force of nature, a living embodiment of fire and majesty. Its sheer scale was humbling, its power palpable, a primal force at my command.

And it was mine. Loyal. Calm. Obedient. Its ancient eyes, now fully open, held no malice, only a deep, unwavering connection to me.

It bowed its head slightly, a gesture of deference that sent a shiver of awe down my spine. This wasn't just a pet; it was an ally, a partner, a weapon unlike any other.

And the best part? It didn't even need to eat. It replenished its strength from the natural energy around the world.

This was a revelation, a massive advantage I hadn't anticipated. No need for special food, no complex dietary requirements—just pure, self-sustaining power. It was truly a creature of myth, existing beyond mundane needs.

I couldn't help but smile, a wide, triumphant grin that stretched across my face. This was it. This was the game-changer. The ultimate trump card.

The world was about to get a lot more interesting, and I was holding the ace. My heart swelled with a mixture of pride and exhilaration.

Indigo League, huh? They used Moltres's flame for the ceremonial torch. The irony wasn't lost on me.

The very symbol of their grand tournament, now under my command. It was almost too perfect, a joke played at the expense of the Pokémon world's elite. The thought alone was enough to make me chuckle.

Imagine someone walking in there as a regular trainer and wiping the floor with others using Moltres itself? The thought sent a surge of mischievous glee through me.

It would be an unprecedented upset, a complete shattering of expectations. The looks on their faces would be priceless, a mixture of shock and disbelief.

Now that's badass. That was the kind of legend I wanted to forge. Not just a champion, but an iconoclast, someone who defied the established order with raw, undeniable power. Moltres was the key to that destiny. It was a statement, a declaration of intent.

After making sure everything was fine, I returned to Pewter City, casually strolling through the streets. Moltres was safely back in its Master Ball, its immense power contained, a secret held close. The city seemed mundane after the raw spectacle of the mountain, almost quaint.

I stopped to grab some supplies—equipment, camping gear, snacks, and items for the road. My backpack felt lighter, my steps more confident.

I browsed the various stalls, picking up a sturdy tent, a new sleeping bag, and a generous supply of energy bars and clean water. Better safe than sorry. I even bought a new map, tracing my finger along the path to Cerulean.

This time, I wasn't taking a cab. I have some plans to pull off. The idea of a quiet, solitary journey was appealing, but my grander scheme required a different approach.

I needed to integrate, to observe, to leverage existing narratives. My presence needed to be organic, not forced.

I was walking to Cerulean. It was a long journey on foot, but it would give me time to think, to plan, and more importantly, to intersect with a very specific group of people.

The path was clear in my mind, both literally and figuratively. Every step was a calculated move.

It was nearly evening by the time I finished stocking up. The sun was beginning its descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple.

The city lights began to twinkle, and the air grew cooler. I was about to leave when I saw a familiar trio—Ash, Misty, and Brock—leaving town.

They were unmistakable, even from a distance. Ash, with his boundless idiotic energy; Misty, with her fiery red hair, idiotic narcissism and raging personality ; and Brock, stoic and dependable.

My heart gave a little leap. This was it. The perfect opportunity, delivered right to my doorstep, almost as if fate itself was guiding me.

Looked like Brock was joining them, leaving his father in charge. I remembered that detail from the anime.

Flint, his dad, would take over the gym. The pieces were falling into place, aligning perfectly with my knowledge of their journey.

I paused. This was it. The moment of truth, the pivot point in my journey.

My future, and perhaps theirs, depended on this interaction. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the casual approach. It was time to make my move.

I needed them for what was coming. I had no intention of traveling alone anymore, not for now.

Their presence, their established narrative, would provide the perfect cover, the ideal environment for my plans to unfold undetected. They were my unwitting allies, my perfect camouflage.

So I approached. My steps were even, my expression neutral, as if I had just happened to cross their path.

"Hey there," I called out, my voice friendly and calm.

"Leaving Pewter City?" I tried to sound genuinely curious, not like someone who had been waiting for them.

Ash, ever the enthusiastic one, turned first, his Pikachu perched on his shoulder.

"Yeah! We just finished up at the gym!" he exclaimed, a wide grin on his face.

Misty nodded, a hint of impatience in her posture, while Brock offered a polite smile. Ash's eyes sparkled with the thrill of adventure.

"Heading to Cerulean City?" I asked casually, as if it were a mere coincidence.

I already knew the answer, of course, but playing dumb was part of the act. It made the interaction feel natural, unforced, like a chance encounter between fellow travelers.

They nodded. "That's the plan!" Ash confirmed, his eyes bright with adventure.

"Gotta get my next badge!"

Misty just sighed, probably already dreading the journey. Brock, ever the responsible one, looked at me curiously, assessing my demeanor.

"Mind if I tag along?" I asked, my tone light and unassuming. I kept my gaze steady, projecting an air of harmless camaraderie.

"The more the merrier, right? And it's a long walk to Cerulean." I gave them my most approachable smile, hoping it would seal the deal.

They agreed easily. Ash, predictably, was all for it. "Awesome! More friends to travel with!" he cheered, pumping a fist.

Misty seemed indifferent, just shrugging, while Brock, after a moment's consideration, gave a welcoming nod. "Safety in numbers," he added, ever practical, his eyes still holding a hint of curiosity.

And just like that, I became part of their traveling party. It was almost too easy, a testament to Ash's trusting nature and Brock's pragmatism.

My infiltration was complete. 

As we made our way toward Mt. Moon, the sky started turning darker. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long, purple shadows across the landscape.

The air grew cooler, and the chirping of daytime Pokémon gave way to the rustling of nocturnal creatures. The stars began to prickle through the deepening twilight.

Eventually, we decided to camp out in the forest. Brock, with his experience, quickly found a suitable clearing, sheltered by thick trees.

Ash immediately started gathering firewood, his energy seemingly boundless even after a day of travel. Misty, surprisingly, helped him, though with a few grumbles.

I let out Grovyle, Combusken, and Marshtomp—my three starters. No way was I showing them Moltres. Not yet.

The Master Ball felt like a lead weight in my pocket, a secret too precious and too dangerous to reveal. My evolved trio, however, were perfect for the role, their presence impressive without being overtly suspicious.

Ash's eyes widened when he saw my Pokémon. Pikachu, perched on his shoulder, chirped curiously, tilting its head.

"Whoa! I've never seen those before!" he said, pulling out his Pokédex. His finger hovered over the scan button, eager to learn.

"They look so cool! What are they?" His enthusiasm was infectious, almost making me crack a smile. It was like watching a child discover something truly amazing.

It beeped and whirred, scanning each one. The Pokédex's robotic voice rattled off their names and basic data.

"Grovyle, the Wood Gecko Pokémon. Combusken, the Young Fowl Pokémon. Marshtomp, the Mud Fish Pokémon."

Ash listened intently, his eyes wide, absorbing every detail. "Amazing!" he breathed.

Brock, however, had a different reaction. He looked at them, recognizing they'd evolved since our last battle. His gaze was sharper, more analytical, missing nothing. He crossed his arms, a thoughtful expression on his face, his brow furrowed slightly.

"Didn't you have their unevolved forms during our match?" he asked, his tone even, but with a hint of genuine curiosity. He wasn't accusing, just observing.

Brock was smarter than Ash, more perceptive. He wouldn't be easily fooled, and I knew I had to be careful with him.

I shrugged, playing it cool. "Some light training did the trick." I offered a casual, dismissive wave of my hand, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

The lie felt smooth, practiced, a natural part of my new persona. Ash nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer, but Brock still looked thoughtful, his gaze lingering.

I told my Pokémon they were free to relax or practice as they liked. They'd earned that freedom. After all I give everyone complete freedom as long as I don't have a reason not to like moltres. They chirped happily, stretching their limbs and looking around the new environment with curiosity. It was good to see them enjoying their newfound freedom in the real world.

While they went off to train, I set up my tent and equipment. My new camping gear was surprisingly easy to assemble, a testament to modern design.

Brock, ever the chef, started preparing dinner, the scent of simmering stew already filling the air. I helped out here and there until it was ready, fetching water and chopping vegetables, trying to appear useful.

We all sat down to eat—with our Pokémon, of course. Pikachu, Starmy, Geodude, Butterfree and other joined my trio around the crackling campfire.

The flames danced, casting flickering shadows on our faces, and the warmth was a welcome comfort in the cool night air. The sounds of happy munching filled the clearing.

I had to admit, Brock's cooking wasn't gourmet like a pro chef, but it was leagues above anything I could make.

The stew was hearty and flavorful, filled with fresh vegetables and tender meat. It was simple, wholesome, and exactly what I needed after a long day. I savored every bite.

We chatted casually. Ash, being Ash, spoke while chewing, his mouth full of stew. (Kids, don't try that at home.) He recounted his recent gym battle with Brock, exaggerating every detail with boundless enthusiasm. Misty occasionally interjected with a sarcastic remark, keeping him in check, her arms crossed.

"So, like, my Pikachu totally zapped Onix, and then it was like, boom! Stone Badge!" Ash exclaimed, gesturing wildly with his spoon, nearly flinging stew across the fire.

Misty rolled her eyes. "You almost lost, Ash. Brock went easy on you, remember? Your Pikachu was almost toast. Also it was an accident that you win not that you really defeated Brock all on your own."

Brock just chuckled, a warm, rumbling sound. He looked at my Pokémon again, his gaze lingering on Grovyle and Combusken. "Seriously, how did you evolve them so fast?" he asked again, his tone a little more insistent this time.

He was genuinely puzzled, and I could tell he wasn't going to let it go easily. His eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of suspicion.

I kept my poker face, a slight smirk playing on my lips. "Just hard training," I lied with a grin, adding a wink for good measure. It was vague enough to be plausible, and just cheeky enough to deflect further questions. 

After dinner, I watched Grovyle and Marshtomp sparring, with Combusken and Pikachu cheering them on. Grovyle was a whirlwind of green, dodging Marshtomp's powerful Mud Shots with ease, while Marshtomp retaliated with surprising agility for his bulk.

Combusken clapped her wings? hands?, and Pikachu bounced with excitement, sparks occasionally flying from its cheeks.

It was nice seeing them bond like that, the two groups of Pokémon slowly integrating. Ash's Pokémon, initially wary, were now playing and training alongside mine.

It was a small, unexpected bonus of joining their group, a pleasant side effect of my grander scheme. The camaraderie was genuine, a welcome warmth in the cool night.

"Make sure to rest after this. We've got a long road ahead," I told them as I crawled into my sleeping bag. My voice was soft, barely a whisper above the crackling fire.

They acknowledged me with happy chirps and nods, eventually settling down near the warmth of the embers, their forms silhouetted against the dying firelight.

As the others followed suit and drifted to sleep, I closed my eyes, secure in the fact that my secrets were safe. The hum of the forest, the distant hoot of an owl, and the gentle breathing of my companions filled the night.

Moltres, a sleeping giant in its Master Ball, was nestled safely in my bag, its immense power a comforting, yet dangerous, presence.

When I woke up the next morning, I found all three of my Pokémon... sleeping on top of me.

Grovyle was draped across my chest, Marshtomp's head was resting on my leg, and Combusken was curled up near my head, her feathers surprisingly soft. It was heavy, but strangely comforting, a warm, living blanket.

Sighing, I wiggled out from under them, careful not to disturb their slumber.

They stirred slightly, then settled back into their comfortable positions. I chuckled softly; it seemed my Pokémon were becoming quite affectionate, a development I hadn't entirely anticipated but certainly didn't mind.

I did my morning routine, splashing cold water on my face and brushing my teeth with a travel-sized brush. The crisp morning air was invigorating, and the scent of pine filled my nostrils.

When I returned to the campsite, I found Brock had already made breakfast. He truly was the backbone of this group.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon wafted through the clearing. Brock, ever the early riser, was meticulously flipping pancakes over the fire.

"Morning, sleepyhead," he greeted with a smile, already handing me a steaming mug. "Thought you'd never wake up under that pile of Pokémon."

I woke Ash and Misty up, a task that proved surprisingly difficult. Ash was a heavy sleeper, and Misty grumbled about the early hour, pulling her sleeping bag tighter around her.

Eventually, with a bit of prodding, they stumbled out of their tents, rubbing sleep from their eyes, ready for food.

Got my Pokémon ready, returning them to their Pokéballs after a quick check-up. They looked refreshed and eager for the day ahead.

Then, I sat down to eat, enjoying Brock's delicious breakfast. The food was simple, but perfectly cooked, a true comfort, fueling us for the journey ahead.

Today, we continue to Mt. Moon. My steps felt lighter, my resolve firmer as my plan were going to start soon.

And I have a legendary firebird in my back pocket. The thought sent a surge of power through me, a quiet confidence that bordered on arrogance.

Moltres was my ace, my ultimate weapon, waiting for the perfect moment to be unleashed. The world had no idea what was coming.

Let's see what happens next. The journey was just beginning, and with a legendary Pokémon by my side, anything felt possible.

 We pack our things as we start moving towards Mt. Moon.