the year is 2034 and gen 13 is about to release. most of the eastern hemisphere is a smoldering, irradiated crater and japan is completely underwater, but game freak somehow keeps cranking out new pokemon games every 3 years like clockwork. most of the cell towers and internet cables were knocked out during the war and what little remained was cannibalized by some roving group of bandits or other, but you can still get a weak internet connection through starlink, although all the datacenters are located in elon musk's palace on mars, so the speed-of-light delay makes the connection irritatingly slow. the whirring of the computer fans startles you, and you silently pray that the noise won't attract any of the harvester drones patrolling the area—not that prayer will do you any good, since the second coming happened last year and humanity is officially on its own now. pushing the thought from your mind, you log on to the smogon forums, one of the few sites standing from the days before hostile ai seized control over most of the web, only able to avoid infiltration because the ai's "accounts" are trained on data from regular people and stick out like a sore thumb on a competitive pokemon forum. you click on the spoiler thread for leaks about the new movesets in the upcoming game. the box legendaries have base 250 in both attacking stats and base 180 speed. "disappointing, but they might find a niche in nu," you think to yourself. then you scroll down a little further, to the "returning pokemon" section. something catches your eye. a decade-and-a-half-long mistake, finally resolved. you feel a popping in the back of your head as the rush of emotion overloads your neuralink chip. as your consciousness fades into oblivion, a single tear rolls down your cheek—not of sorrow, but of joy, joy born of satisfaction and fulfillment. in your final moments, you bask in the feeling that everything is now complete, for galarian articuno now gets roost