Pokemon : Negative Emotion System

Meanwhile, in the deeper side of the Mystery Zone…

An hour had passed.

Tyranitar—who had previously looked like it'd just been hit by a truck, electrocuted, stabbed, and then insulted—was now standing proud and solid like a walking fortress. The gaping wound in its chest had completely healed, the cracks across its armor were gone, and even its faded, sand-worn plates had been polished back to a brilliant green shine. Honestly, it looked like it had just walked off the cover of Pokémon Weekly: Buff Edition.

David blinked in disbelief.

"This… this Rejuvenation Pill really worked like magic…" he muttered, still holding the now-empty bottle like it was a legendary artifact. "Should've sold it for a new bike…"

He slowly circled the now-glowing Tyranitar, squinting at its armor and tail like a suspicious mechanic inspecting a used car.

"Hey, Tyranitar," David said cautiously, "who the heck beat you up like that? Seriously. You're like, a walking earthquake. And what happened to your Trainer?"

The question hung in the air.

David scratched his head. He was confused—and rightfully so. The system had clearly identified this Tyranitar as not wild. It belonged to someone. But what kind of Trainer abandons a champion-level Tyranitar, lets it nearly die in a cave, and leaves it lying next to its own egg?

"That doesn't make sense," David muttered. "I mean, if I had a Tyranitar, I wouldn't even need to do laundry. I'd just have it stare the dirt out of my clothes."

Tyranitar didn't answer—obviously, since it didn't speak English—but it did fix David with a long, intense stare.

Then, without a sound, it lowered its body and nudged its massive, spiky back toward him.

David blinked. "Wait, no. No, no, no. Are you trying to get me to ride you?"

Tyranitar growled softly. The meaning was clear.

David took one look at the spike-covered back and immediately backed up, waving his hands.

"Buddy, listen. I appreciate the offer, really. It's very knightly. But I like my butt unpunctured."

Tyranitar snorted, seemingly amused. It didn't insist. Instead, with a low roar, it turned toward the cave ceiling—then opened its mouth wide.

A beam of destruction—pure, radiant Hyper Beam—shot from its jaws and punched a perfect hole straight through the rock overhead. The entire cavern groaned like an old man doing squats, then collapsed around them in a rain of boulders and dust.

David instinctively covered his face, coughing. But before a single rock could hit him, Tyranitar's huge arm swept out, shielding him completely.

When the dust cleared, sunlight poured through the newly opened roof. The scent of fresh air, fire, and the faint smell of panic wafted in.

"Nice skylight," David muttered, brushing off a pebble from his hair.

Tyranitar stepped out first, emerging into the chaos above. David followed, thanks to a quick Teleport from Ralts, and what he saw made his jaw drop.

The Mystery Zone—his once chill, beautiful haven—was now a blazing mess.

Flames roared through the forest, licking at the trees like hungry beasts. Pokémon of every shape and size were fleeing in terror—some screaming, some crying, some just giving up and rolling downhill. A few Oddish were waddling as fast as their stubby legs could go, while a terrified Wurmple face-planted into a rock and just pretended to be dead.

By the lake, the water had turned a disturbing shade of brown-green, and bubbles were rising from a mixture that looked like Gyarados' lunch and regrets.

"Pikachu!" David heard the little guy call out from behind.

His Pikachu, ears twitching, hopped down and took in the carnage before him. It stared at the scene, then slowly turned to look at David like Did you do this?

Then it spotted Tyranitar—and practically leapt into its arms like a toddler reuniting with its nanny.

"Pikaaaaa!!"

Tyranitar blinked in surprise as the little electric rat nuzzled its chest, clearly comforted by its presence.

David raised an eyebrow. "Okay, now that's weird. I thought Tyranitars were supposed to be aggressive, borderline unhinged desert tyrants with emotional issues."

But the sight in front of him was… well, adorable. Dozens of scared, weak Pokémon were rushing toward Tyranitar—not in fear, but as if drawn to safety. A trembling Poochyena nuzzled its leg. An Oddish curled up beside its tail. A baby Lotad even climbed up one of its spikes like it was the jungle gym at recess.

David scratched his head.

"This is either the softest Tyranitar in history, or I've stepped into a weird Pokémon version of Finding Nemo."

Just then, a familiar chime echoed in his ears:

[You've received +20 Negative Emotion Value from Oddish…]

[+20 from Poochyena…]

[+1000 from Giovanni…]

David paused. "Wait… Giovanni?"

His eyes narrowed.

That name was burned into the back of his mind now. He still hadn't forgotten the mangled Tyranitar, the empty cave, or the desperate, bloodstained eyes pleading for help. And now Giovanni was popping up in the system logs, clearly pissed.

"Ohhh no," David groaned, "what did I accidentally do this time?"

He looked at Tyranitar—now surrounded by little forest Pokémon like some kind of rocky Santa Claus.

"Alright, buddy," David muttered. "I don't know what Giovanni did to you. But I've got a very bad feeling we're about to find out…"

****

David stood at the edge of the burned-out clearing, brushing ash off his pants and wondering if this was all part of some cosmic prank.

Then he looked down—and nearly tripped over three tiny, dirt-covered Pokémon staring up at him with wide, trembling eyes.

"Oddish…" whimpered the little leaf ball.

"Arf! Rawr!" barked the Poochyena, tail wagging like a washing machine on spin cycle.

"Okay, okay, hold the waterworks," David sighed, crouching to their level. "You three again?"

They looked like they'd just escaped a prison drama. Each had a thick metal collar strapped around their necks, glowing faintly—clearly not the fashion accessory of their choice.

"Oh, right… these guys bolted from Ursaring's cave earlier," David muttered, realization dawning.

From their pitiful looks and dirty faces, it was clear what happened. After escaping the angry bear cave, they must've gotten picked up by Giovanni's local poaching ring. Probably tossed into that creepy old hut he kept like some twisted Pokémon Craigslist warehouse.

"If Giovanni hadn't left for his Saturday villain monologue session, they'd be boxed, tagged, and shipped to who-knows-where by now…" David grimaced.

And it wasn't just these three.

Behind them, a line of other captured Pokémon had started limping forward—Ekans, Sentret, even a crying Magikarp that somehow managed to look tragic and ridiculous.

All of them wore the same suppressive collars, blinking red and glowing with that same ominous energy.

"Ralts," David called out, eyes narrowing, "time to do your thing."

The little Psychic-type nodded, its red horn glowing like a hot stove.

A surge of Psychic energy rippled through the air—fssshhht!

One by one, the collars snapped, crumbled, and fell to the ground like discarded bottle caps.

The captured Pokémon blinked in stunned silence… then immediately burst into cheers, squeals, chirps, and loud, sloppy crying. One particularly dramatic Sentret hugged David's leg and wouldn't let go.

"Okay, team," David declared, peeling Sentret off his shin like a sticky burrito, "if we're gonna save this Mystery Zone, we need all paws on deck."

He turned to Oddish. "You—plantball. You know where the water sources are, right? Go gather up every Water-type you can find. Lakes, ponds, garden sprinklers—I don't care where, just bring them."

Oddish saluted with a leaf. "Odd-ISH!"

"Poochyena," David pointed next. "Sniff out any trapped Pokémon still in the forest. Smoke, fire, caves—track 'em down and get 'em out."

"Ruff!" barked Poochyena, instantly darting into the undergrowth.

David turned to the flock of nervous Pidgeys loitering nearby.

"You all got wings, right? Great. Stop loafing. Fly over the fire zones and help rescue any poor critters trapped on tree branches or rooftops or whatever."

The Pidgeys exchanged glances like teenagers being asked to do chores—until one of them nervously glanced at Tyranitar.

The Desert Tyrant gave a single grunt.

Every Pidgey suddenly stood straight, saluted with a wing, and took off in a cloud of feathers.

David blinked. "Man, Tyranitar really is the grumpy dad energy they all listen to."

The big guy gave a low rumble, clearly approving of the plan.

Together, David and Tyranitar headed toward the heart of the disaster—where smoke churned like storm clouds and trees collapsed like soggy spaghetti.

But then David stopped.

Up ahead, past the burning treetops and fleeing Pokémon, were four massive silhouettes—hulking shapes big enough to block the horizon. Each one looked like a kaiju cosplaying as a final boss.

As the smoke cleared slightly, David finally got a good look.

"…Oh. Oh, great."

A colossal Nidoking, its hide marked with jagged black lines.

A Rhyperior with cracks glowing like lava veins.

An Alakazam, eyes blazing crimson, floating unnaturally like it had just unlocked the dark web of the mind.

And Dracovish—who already looked like a cursed fossil before, but now had glowing runes pulsing across its scales like someone got bored with a Sharpie.

David's face went pale. "Those tattoos… where have I seen those before?"

Then it clicked.

He turned slowly toward Gengar, who was watching from a shadow.

David said, "tell me I'm not hallucinating. Those aren't… those aren't super ancient Pokémon, are they?"

Tyraniter didn't reply—just let out a long, slow exhale that sounded dangerously close to yep.

David remembered now—the Galar region documentaries, those ancient murals. Pokémon from millennia ago, brought back through unstable tech, juiced up to kaiju proportions. No control. No limiters. Just destruction.

"I thought those things were just exaggerated in the anime!" he groaned. "They said Dynamax was dangerous, not 'rip the world apart with your pinky.'"

Tyranitar growled, confirming the obvious.

"They've got super ancient power," David muttered, eyes locked on the swirling black markings covering each creature. "And they've lost control. Just like in the records. They're gonna tear this place apart…"

He turned to Tyranitar, serious now. "We need to stop them. Whatever it takes."

Tyranitar's eyes narrowed. He knew. He could feel it. These weren't just rogue Pokémon. They were weapons.

David's gaze followed Tyranitar's. High above, on the shoulder of that massive Nidoking, stood a man with a frame like a skeleton, face pale as parchment and eyes blazing with madness.

It was him.

"Giovanni," David sighed. "Of course it's you."

Tyranitar's growl deepened. The wind shifted.

And the battlefield, already cracked and burning, prepared for the next clash.

****

"Are you completely out of your mind?!" Commander Grant bellowed, his usually calm face now a thundercloud of frustration and disbelief. "Because of your insane experiments, that Tyranitar of yours went completely off the rails!"

He glared up at the skeletal figure standing atop the hulking Nidoking, who clutched a darkened Pokémon egg like it was the Holy Grail of evil science.

"Your Tyranitar nearly killed Elite Four Cao's Tyranitar! And worse—it was carrying two baby Tyranitars at the time!"

"So what?" Giovanni snapped back, his raspy voice trembling with a mix of bitterness and fury. "I want Cao Wuxin to suffer! I want him to feel the pain I felt!"

With an eerie grin stretched across his gaunt face, Giovanni raised the Pokémon egg high into the air. Once decorated with shimmering emerald-green patterns, the shell was now pitch black—like someone had dunked it in pure evil and dried it under moonlight.

The injection he'd given it earlier had begun to take full effect.

A twisted product of science and madness, born from the power of an ultra-ancient civilization.

Giovanni's voice was calm, but laced with obsession as he looked at the egg like it was his own child. "Five years ago, my Tyranitar accidentally absorbed the energy of an ancient civilization buried in the depths of a forgotten ruin. It changed her. Drove her mad."

He clenched his teeth. "But I didn't abandon her. I tried to understand that power. To save her."

As he spoke, his tone grew more and more unhinged, like a man recounting a dream that had turned into a nightmare.

"But I was too late. That ancient power—whatever it was—it took control of her mind. Made her violent. Unstable. She went berserk in the Alliance headquarters. No one could stop her."

Giovanni's eyes darkened. "So what did Aron do? He didn't try to help. He didn't listen. He just killed her."

Commander Grant swallowed hard. The story was familiar. Whispers had circulated in the upper ranks for years. A once-brilliant researcher turned rogue after losing his beloved Pokémon.

"You still don't get it, do you?" Giovanni sneered. "If I had just a little more time, I could've saved her! Instead, they shut me down. Branded me a danger. Tossed me aside like trash."

"So you ran," Grant muttered.

"I didn't run," Giovanni hissed. "I evolved. I came to this Mystery Zone and picked up where I left off. And these four… glorious monsters"—he gestured at the four corrupted giants surrounding the garrison—"they're only the beginning."

The massive Nidoking stomped the ground beneath him, cracking the earth like dry toast. The others—Rhyperior, Alakazam, and Dracovish—glowed with the same unstable, chaotic energy. Their skin shimmered with ancient tattoos, etched in rage and time.

"They're semi-finished," Giovanni admitted with a twisted grin. "But this…"

He raised the egg again, cradling it like it was a crown jewel.

"…this is the real masterpiece. The perfect host. A Larvitar descended from champions, infused with just the right blend of darkness and power."

Commander Grant's eyes widened. "You want to infect that baby with ancient power?! Are you trying to recreate the same disaster that got your Tyranitar killed?!"

Giovanni didn't flinch. "This time will be different. This one is built to endure it."

He closed his eyes for a moment, a dangerous calm settling over him. "Sooner or later, Aron's going to have to make a choice again. Just like he did with my Tyranitar."

His voice dropped to a whisper.

"Save the Alliance… or destroy another innocent Pokémon."

He stared at the egg in his hand with cold affection. "Let's see how noble he really is."

Commander Grant had heard enough.

He reached for his Poké Balls, jaw clenched. "You're not just insane… you're suicidal. If you think we'll let you go through with this, you've really lost it."

"Are you still counting on Aron's Tyranitar?" Giovanni scoffed. "That relic is dead. Turned to rubble along with your hopes."

The color drained from Grant's face.

So it was true.

The protector of the Mystery Zone—Aron's trusted Tyranitar, the one meant to guard against threats just like this—was gone.

Destroyed by the same darkness Giovanni claimed he could now control.

That was the final straw.

Commander Grant snapped his fingers, eyes sharp.

"Pidgeot! Launch Hurricane!"

"Rhyperior, Hyper Beam! Don't hold back!"

Pidgeot burst from his Poké Ball in a swirl of feathers and wind, its wings slicing through the air like jet turbines. With a fierce cry, it whipped up a spinning wall of wind and debris—razor-sharp air blades hurtling toward the massive Nidoking like nature's own buzzsaw.

At the same moment, Rhyperior roared from below, the gem on its forehead glowing with an intense white light. A blinding beam of destruction shot forth like a railgun, aimed straight at the target.

Wind and beam converged mid-air, a full-force combo designed to break bones, crack shells, and, hopefully, knock some sense into the lunatic standing on Nidoking's shoulder.

But Giovanni didn't move.

He just laughed.

That same spine-chilling, bone-dry laugh that made the air itself feel heavier.

****

Elsewhere in the Mystery Zone...

Two familiar groups stirred—the hulking Ursarings and the serpentine Gyarados horde who had once stood guard like loyal sentinels. They'd both heard the news.

Tyranitar was dead. And Giovanni was back.

The moment they spotted the skeletal lunatic perched dramatically atop his oversized Nidoking, both groups of Pokémon bellowed in raw, primal fury.

"ROOOOAARR!!"

"GYAAAAAA!!"

These weren't just war cries. No, these were revenge screams, the kind you let out after someone dents your car, steals your lunch, and kicks your pet rock all in one afternoon.

Both Ursaring and Gyarados groups had once been saved by Tyranitar. They owed him their survival—heck, Ursaring had even crawled to the depths of the Mystery Zone once, just to barter his hard-earned stash of treasures for a top-quality Smooth Rock, all so Tyranitar could endure his agony a little longer.

Even after that, Tyranitar's wounds from the last great battle hadn't healed. The big girl was on borrowed time. It was an unspoken truth among the forest's Pokémon: she probably wouldn't have lasted another few months—even if Giovanni hadn't decided to throw a villainous tantrum and ruin everything.

But now? Oh now, they were done waiting.

Still mid-attack on the garrison camp a moment ago, Ursaring and Gyarados both stopped, turned, and promptly redirected every last ounce of rage at the creepy lab coat cosplayer on Nidoking's shoulder.

A storm of Hyper Beams, Dark Pulses, and—was that a flying ball of poop?

A glistening brown sphere soared through the air, hurled by Ursaring with the grace and precision of a fastball pitcher with no shame.

"ROOAAAR!!" (Translation: "Enjoy your snack, you freak!")

Giovanni didn't even blink. With a bored sigh, he muttered, "Dusknoir, Barrier."

A shadow peeled itself from the background like a horror movie extra, revealing a hulking Dusknoir. It floated forward with a deadpan expression and calmly raised a shimmering energy barrier just in time.

Most of the attacks smashed harmlessly against it—save for one.

The brown ball.

SPLAT.

The moment it hit the Barrier, it didn't bounce. It didn't vanish. It… stuck. And then oozed. And then spread.

"Oh my Arceus—what is that smell?" Giovanni's eye twitched.

His tone, once cool and superior, now cracked under the weight of biological warfare. "Is that... did someone just fling feces at me?!"

He leaned slightly forward and sniffed. Bad idea.

The color drained from his face faster than a Magikarp out of water. "Oh no. Oh no no no. This is actual Ursaring dung. Top-grade too. I can feel the fibers."

He recoiled, frantically pinching his nose and waving his sleeve in front of his face like it might magically erase the horror. "WHO DOES THAT?! Who trains a Pokémon to weaponize that?! That's not a move, that's a public health violation!"

Even Dusknoir gave a silent side-eye like "You didn't pay me enough for this."

Disgusted and flustered for the first time, Giovanni stumbled back, completely losing his villain composure.

But he quickly recovered.

"Fine," he snarled, wiping his now-tainted cloak. "Enough games. Send these animals to meet their 'lord of the forest'—in the afterlife!"

He snapped his fingers.

"And wipe out the entire garrison camp while you're at it. I want no Trainers left breathing."

The four super-ancient Pokémon surrounding him roared in unison, their unstable bodies pulsing with chaotic energy. Their eyes were glowing red, the tattoos on their bodies shifting like ink in water.

Boom.

A wave of destructive energy—Death ray, Hyper Beam, call them what you will—launched from their mouths, blasting toward the camp below like a doomsday laser light show.

Meanwhile, in the garrison camp...Commander Grant, Tom, and Luna had barely made it back to the camp after fleeing Gyarados earlier. Now, they were staring at the oncoming storm of ancient rage with all the serenity of people waiting in line for a slap.

Grant turned pale. "Oh no. That's not just any Hyper Beam. That's 'goodbye tax returns' kind of beam."

Tom's voice cracked. "You—you said this was a training trip!"

"I thought it was!" Grant shouted back.

Luna clutched Tom's arm, trembling. "This is it… this is how we die. Vaporized by prehistoric lasers while standing next to a guy who tried to sell me Poké Treats made of tofu last week."

Tom gulped. "I was experimenting with organic recipes!"

The death beam was getting closer—hotter, louder, and ready to ruin everyone's day.

Several Trainers in the camp just gave up on dignity entirely.

"I HAVE NO REGRETS!" someone screamed. "Except maybe dating that guy who said he was a Magmar in human form!"

"I ONCE ATE A RARE CANDY I FOUND IN A GARBAGE CAN!" another confessed.

"I CHEATED ON MY EXAM USING POKÉDEX VOICE COMMANDS!" one Trainer sobbed.

A third Trainer broke down entirely, yelling, "I KISSED MY MALE CO-WORKER BY ACCIDENT AND LIKED IT!"

Panic swept the camp like wildfire. People dove for cover, others just hugged their Pokémon and braced for impact.

Grant stood tall and solemn. "I tried, you know? I really tried."

He looked down at Tom and Luna with sad eyes. "Guess I wasn't good enough to keep you two safe…"

And then—

The beam arrived.

****

A gloomy silence fell over the entire garrison camp, as if someone had just announced there'd be no dessert for the rest of the year. The air was heavy, thick with fear and resignation. People were whispering their final goodbyes. One guy had already written "RIP me" on his backpack. It was that bad.

But just when everyone thought it was curtains for them, a voice pierced through the chaos like a thunderbolt of salvation.

"Tyranitar! Block it with Hyper Beam!"

From somewhere in the distance, a blinding column of energy tore across the battlefield—golden, roaring, and absolutely majestic. It collided head-on with Nidoking's death beam in a dazzling explosion of light and sound, stopping it cold. The sky lit up like fireworks on steroids.

In the camp, both Tom and Luna froze.

That voice—it was impossible to mistake.

Their eyes widened as they turned toward the source, tears still clinging to the corners like reluctant raindrops on glass.

"David!"

"Bro!"

And there he was.

Riding atop a massive, emerald-armored Tyranitar like some kind of rock-type cowboy, David stood tall—his cape billowing dramatically in the wind, which, for some reason, decided to show up exactly on cue. His loyal Pikachu perched proudly on his shoulder, sparks faintly flickering from its cheeks like a warning to the world: Mess with him, and you're asking for it.

The light caught David's face just right, giving him the glow of a protagonist in the final act. It would've made even a soap opera jealous.

David slowly rose to full height on Tyranitar's back. Time seemed to slow down.

Somewhere, a guitar riff should've played.

Down in the camp, Jake (formerly known as Zhu Dagang) blinked in disbelief, mouth half open, halfway through what he thought would be his final gasp of life.

His legs trembled. His pants were… let's say "partially compromised." He'd already given up. Already envisioned the sad obituary.

But now?

"Wait... was that... David?"

Jake stared like he'd just seen a ghost in skinny jeans. "I thought I was dead! This guy shows up riding a Tyranitar like it's a parade float. What the hell?!"

Of course, the most visibly confused were not the humans—but the angry hordes of Gyarados and Ursarings surrounding the garrison camp.

These weren't just any wild Pokémon. Oh no. These were the very same mobs David had once generously fed his homemade Jet Energy Cubes… the ones he'd laced with industrial-strength laxatives. The memory of the mass digestive meltdown was still fresh in their minds—and maybe elsewhere.

A tiny Teddiursa in the bear pack squinted through the smoke. Its nose twitched. Its stubby paw pointed, trembling with pure rage.

"It's him…"

The Gyarados squad wasn't far behind. Their pupils locked onto David like heat-seeking missiles.

"ROOOAAARRRRRRR!!"

Their fury echoed across the Mystery Zone, shaking the trees and sending a poor Spearow into an early midlife crisis.

Both the Ursarings and the Gyarados began to surge forward, claws and jaws at the ready. This was it. Payback. The day of reckoning. Time to settle the score for the bowel apocalypse David had triggered.

But then they saw it.

The Tyranitar.

The majestic, battle-worn titan David was riding wasn't just any old Pokémon. It was the Tyranitar. The forest's guardian. The one that had once shared its sacred Smooth Rock. The one they respected. Worshipped. Owed.

The shift was instant.

One moment, they were ready to maul David into a smear on the rocks. The next, they were slamming on their metaphorical brakes.

Teddiursa's angry point turned into a nervous wave. One Gyarados tried to pretend it had just been stretching. Another Ursaring made a show of adjusting its claws like, "Nah bro, I wasn't gonna hit him—I was just flexin'."

The fear was real.

They exchanged glances. Clearly still furious, clearly still holding a grudge—but now painfully aware that any move against David meant dealing with that Tyranitar.

And that... was a death wish.

David, completely unfazed, looked down at them all with casual indifference, as if to say, "Yeah, remember who gave you the cubes. And who rides the boss now."

Even Pikachu gave them a smug little wink.

The battlefield fell eerily quiet. For now, at least, no one dared move.

And in that moment, the tide had turned. David had arrived. And the world would have to deal with it.