Aspen opened his eyes, feeling as if he had been thrown into a whirlwind of nightmares. He sat up slowly, every fiber of his body aching from past battles and the lingering tension of recent events. He blinked a few times, disoriented, then let out a groan as a sharp pain seized his bandaged arm.
The faint scent of cooked herbs filled the air, mixed with the light aroma of berries. It took him a few seconds to realize he was in his own room, in his grandmother's house.
The sun barely filtered through the slits in the window, casting golden lines across the sheets. With considerable effort, Aspen turned and noticed that the room now had only one empty cot, positioned near his own. Faint memories of Kara and Vera, unconscious, surfaced in his mind. It was only then that he realized neither of them were there anymore.
“Kara? Vera…?” he whispered, attempting to sit up further.
A wave of dizziness hit him violently, reminding him of his body’s weakened state.
With trembling hands, he removed the bandage from his forehead, finding that only faint traces of superficial wounds remained. However, his muscles protested with every movement. A sudden shiver ran down his spine as memories flooded back—the duel in the cave, Niko’s blades, the venom coursing through him, the image of Vera and Kara fighting against overwhelming forces…
The mere thought of it all made his stomach churn. But curiosity—and a hint of fear—pushed him to get up. He needed to find his grandmother and get some answers. He grabbed the hoodie resting on a nearby chair, grimacing at the dried bloodstains.
He crossed the hallway and entered the kitchen, where a cauldron released a faint, aromatic smoke. The atmosphere was quiet, almost unnervingly so. He limped forward, gripping the wall for support, until he finally spotted Julia, standing by a window with a somber expression.
“…Grandma,” he murmured, swallowing hard.
Julia turned slowly, her gaze a mixture of relief and sorrow. Deep dark circles beneath her eyes betrayed her lack of sleep.
“Aspen… are you feeling any better?” she asked, her voice measured.
He nodded, though in truth, he was far from fully recovered. He noticed that Julia didn’t return the gesture. Instead, she simply studied him, as if searching for some invisible damage.
Leaning on her makeshift cane, she walked to the kitchen table and gestured for him to sit.
“Sit down. There’s… too much we need to discuss,” she murmured, motioning toward an old wooden stool.
Aspen obeyed, lowering himself carefully onto the seat. The subtle aroma of warm food mixed with the scent of natural remedies. He opened his mouth to speak, but a knot in his throat stopped him. Julia caught his unease and sat across from him, resting her cane against the wall.
“Grandma… where are Kara and Vera?” he finally managed to ask. “…And my books, the ones—”
“They left,” Julia interrupted bluntly. “Both of them walked out at dawn, once they were able to stand on their own. They didn’t leave much explanation. Vera, as you might have guessed, took the volumes from your backpack—the ones you found in the library.”
The news hit Aspen harder than expected. His shoulders slumped, and he let out a sigh of frustration. He had wanted to read those books, to immerse himself in their contents. But after his capture, he never had the chance to examine them closely.
“Damn it…” he muttered, running a hand over his face. “I wanted to go through them. Maybe I could’ve found something useful for my Five Poison Organs Technique…”
“This isn’t the time for pointless regrets,” Julia cut in, her tone sharp. “You missed that chance, yes. But you have much bigger problems, boy.”
A knot of anxiety tightened in Aspen’s chest. His heartbeat quickened at the seriousness in her voice.
“…What happened?” he asked, dreading the answer.
Julia pressed her lips together, her shoulders sagging in exhaustion. She looked at him, her eyes carrying a heavy weight.
“The cave collapsed from the intensity of your battles. The Kanto Elite intervened—Lance was at the head of it.” She paused, choosing her words carefully. “…Koga, Sabrina, Bruno… all of them have conspired to get rid of us.”
Aspen felt the blood drain from his face.
“G-get rid of us?” he echoed, his voice shaky.
Julia nodded.
“They couldn’t kill you—Lance forbade it. And also because I…” She closed her eyes briefly. “I agreed to surrender my technique and sign a blood pact with Koga to ensure he wouldn’t harm you.”
Aspen’s breath hitched.
“A… a blood pact?” His mind raced, recalling old legends about the clans. Rituals that bound individuals through magic, making betrayal result in instant death. “Why would you do something so…?”
“It was the only way to keep you alive,” Julia replied bitterly. “You don’t understand the extent of Koga’s fury. And not just him—the Psychic and Fighting Clans have also demanded control over Vera and Kara. Lance, the Champion, decreed that all three of you ‘belong’ to those clans—but without privileges or real training. ‘Recognized, yet outcast.’”
Aspen felt an overwhelming wave of panic wash over him.
“What… what does that mean for me? Do I have to go to the Poison Clan? Are they… going to torture me?”
The mere thought of Niko and his blades made his skin crawl.
Julia let out a sigh, shaking her head.
“Calm down. You’re ‘suspended’ from the Academy for a week, meaning there’s no official place you have to report to. And Koga is, at the very least, forbidden from attacking you. I made sure the agreement allows you to return to the Academy after your suspension. But…” She hesitated, her face darkening. “You’re in a dangerous limbo, Aspen. As long as you’re weak, anyone can humiliate you—or worse.”
A suffocating pressure settled in Aspen’s chest.
“No… no way… this… all of this…” His breathing became uneven, dizziness returning in full force. “I… I don’t know how to face clans that powerful!”
Julia studied him, her expression softening for the first time. A flicker of guilt crossed her face. She knew that, like herself, Aspen hadn’t chosen this life—he had been thrown into it by fate and the cruelty of the clans.
“…Calm down,” she murmured, shifting the conversation. “Don’t let this panic consume you. Right now, what you need to do is…”
She met his gaze, her voice firm.
“Get stronger.”
Aspen stared at her, disbelieving.
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“…Stronger? How?” he asked, his voice raw. “I could barely defend myself… I drank poison… I nearly died—”
“And yet, you survived,” Julia cut in sharply. “You managed to poison and immobilize Niko. You captured that special Zubat. You have talent, even if you’re not a prodigy like Kara or Vera. And as long as you have my guidance, you can hone your abilities—specifically, those tied to poison.”
She stood up and walked to an old wooden cabinet. After opening a drawer, she pulled out a Poké Ball but stared at it with disgust before sighing and putting it back.
“I spoke with an old ‘friend’—Agatha of the Elite Four,” she muttered, the word friend laced with sarcasm.
Aspen’s eyes widened.
His grandmother knew the Ghost-type Master?
He opened his mouth to ask, but she raised a hand, silencing him.
“Shut up. I won’t explain my relationship with Agatha.”
Aspen swallowed his curiosity.
“The important thing,” she continued, “is that I asked her for a Gastly—one with the ability to manipulate shadows. A very rare one.”
Aspen frowned.
“A Gastly… with shadow manipulation?”
Julia nodded, a calculating glint in her eyes.
“Its ability is called ‘Shadow Tag.’ A Gastly with that trait is extremely rare. It allows the user to hide in shadows and trap opponents.”
Her voice hardened.
“And I want you to have one.”
Aspen sat frozen, processing his grandmother’s words.
A Gastly with Shadow Tag…
He knew that certain Pokémon had special abilities, but Julia wasn’t just asking him to capture any Gastly—she was demanding that he find one specific kind, a rare specimen with a unique power.
“…And Agatha couldn’t get one for us?” he asked hesitantly.
Julia shook her head.
“No. Even she couldn’t find one in her breeding stock. It seems the most recent generations of Gastly have lost that ability.”
She exhaled sharply, gripping the edge of the table with aged but steady hands.
“So I arranged for you to be granted access to the Pokémon Tower in Lavender Town,” she continued. “Rumors say that Gastly with Shadow Tag may still reside there.”
Aspen stiffened.
The Pokémon Tower?
The very mention of it sent a chill down his spine.
Lavender Town’s Pokémon Tower was infamous. A place where the deceased Pokémon of trainers were laid to rest… but also a hotbed of ghostly activity and eerie phenomena.
He recalled stories from the Academy: whispers in the fog, shadows that moved on their own, the ancient Gengar said to lurk in the upper floors, and Pokémon that fled in terror after entering.
And now, Julia expected him to walk into that haunted labyrinth?
“…I have to go there?” he muttered, his voice tinged with unease. “I’m suspended… and I—”
“Precisely,” Julia interrupted. “Since you’re suspended, there are no restrictions on where you go or what you do. This is the best time for you to grow stronger, away from Koga’s spies.”
She turned, walked toward an old wooden wardrobe, and pulled out a heavy canvas backpack. Returning to the table, she placed it in front of Aspen.
“Everything you’ll need is inside,” she said. “Provisions, herbal vials, and several talismans I crafted myself.”
Aspen hesitated before reaching out and unbuckling the bag’s flap.
Inside, he found glass vials filled with dark liquids, wrapped carefully in cloth. There were also several strips of parchment, covered in strange runes and sigils. He carefully picked one up, examining the symbols.
“These… will protect you from some Ghost-type effects,” Julia explained. “They won’t do much against powerful spirits, but they’ll shield you from weaker curses.”
Her sharp gaze locked onto his.
“But most importantly, do not return without a Gastly.”
Aspen gulped.
She wasn’t giving him a choice.
“This isn’t just about catching a Pokémon,” Julia continued. “A Gastly with Shadow Tag will be invaluable in keeping you alive. My Gengar has that ability, and it has saved me more times than I can count.”
Aspen’s fingers twitched as he processed her words.
“Survival…” he murmured.
That word carried an awful weight now.
Ever since the incident in the Academy Trials, his life had been anything but safe.
He had barely survived the cave battle. Barely escaped Niko. Barely avoided becoming another casualty in the war between clans.
And now, here he was—being sent into a ghost-infested tower, just to get a Pokémon that might keep him alive in the future.
“…Understood,” he finally said, voice subdued. “I’ll do it.”
Julia’s expression softened, just a fraction.
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a Pokégear—an older model, slightly scratched but still functional. She handed it to him.
“You no longer have access to the Academy’s tech,” she said, “so use this to contact me if necessary.”
Aspen nodded and clipped the device onto his belt.
She stepped back, crossing her arms.
“I’ll repeat myself one last time,” she said firmly. “Do not return with just any Gastly. If it doesn’t have Shadow Tag, the entire trip will have been a waste.”
Aspen clenched his fists, feeling the weight of the task ahead settle onto his shoulders.
“…I won’t fail,” he promised.
The Journey to Lavender Town
One day later, after recovering some of his strength, Aspen set out.
Julia had arranged for transport—a Tauros-drawn cart run by a traveling merchant. It was a small blessing, as he was still weak and couldn’t afford to travel on foot.
For most of the ride, the merchant stayed silent, focused on the road. Aspen, meanwhile, kept re-reading Julia’s notes on the Pokémon Tower.
- Seven floors.
- Thick fog on the fourth floor.
- Ghost Pokémon activity increases at night.
- Possible presence of a “guardian” on the top floor.
His grip tightened on the croquis map.
The more he read, the worse his unease grew.
Was he truly ready for this?
After several long, tense hours, the Tauros pulled to a stop.
Aspen looked up—a massive tower loomed in the distance, rising over the rooftops of Lavender Town like a sentinel of the dead.
The golden hues of the afternoon sun cast long, eerie shadows across the landscape. A chill ran down his spine.
“This is where you get off, boy,” the merchant said gruffly. “I’m not going anywhere near that place.”
Aspen got out and handed the man a small payment—money Julia had given him.
The merchant immediately turned his cart around and drove off as quickly as he could.
Aspen adjusted his backpack and turned toward the town ahead.
There was something… odd.
The streets were quiet. Too quiet.
A thin mist hung in the air, and the smell of burning incense wafted from the direction of the Tower.
The few people outside walked quickly, avoiding eye contact. Two monks in gray robes stood near the front steps, talking quietly.
Aspen walked over, and the conversation died down as her eyes fell on him.
They said nothing.
I just stared.
Her stomach turned.
His grandmother had warned him that outsiders weren’t always welcome here.
Ignoring their stares, he stopped in front of an old wooden sign:
Lavender Town Pokémon Tower
“A shrine for the spirits of deceased Pokémon. May they rest in peace.”
Below that, a smaller note was nailed to the post:
? WARNING: Enter at your own risk. Paranormal activity has been reported. Monks and specialists are working to purify the area, but safety is not guaranteed. ?
Aspen’s fingers tightened around the straps of his bag.
His instincts screamed at him to turn back.
But he couldn’t.
He wouldn’t.
Julia’s words echoed in his mind:
“Don’t come back without a Gastly.”
Taking a deep breath, he forced himself up the steps and past the monks, who whispered amongst themselves as he entered.
The moment she crossed the threshold, the temperature dropped sharply.
A thick veil of shadows swallowed the light.
Dim candles flickered on the walls, illuminating rows and rows of tombstones. A thin mist curled around her feet, moving like a living thing.
Somewhere in the depths of the tower…
…a low, mournful whisper drifted through the halls.
Aspen froze.
The sound was neither human nor Pokémon.
It was something else.
Her heart pounded as she took her first step into the unknown.
The hunt for Gastly had begun.