Chapter Seventy-Five: Strange Dreams and Visions

"Xiaoyao, where are you? I want to return to Weibai Town and have Professor Odagiri take a look at my Aurorus," Zhao Fang quickly contacted Xiaoyao through his Pokédex. When he reached her, he caught sight of her brushing her teeth, apparently in the bathroom.

"I'm... mmmph... at home, brushing my teeth. What's up with your Aurorus?" Xiaoyao spat toothpaste into the sink as she looked at Zhao Fang with curiosity.

Zhao Fang scratched his head. Though Aurorus was a Pokémon from the Kalos region, there wasn’t much about it that would be of research interest to Professor Odagiri—after all, if she wanted to study Aurorus, she could easily access all the data she needed.

"Well, my Aurorus... it's white. Looks different from regular ones," he decided to mention its Shiny form. As soon as he said it, Xiaoyao nearly pressed her face to the screen.

"What?! You caught another Shiny Pokémon?!" Xiaoyao glared at Zhao Fang with gritted teeth. She’d already thought his luck was extraordinary, but this was on another level. Shiny Pokémon weren’t like radishes or cabbages you could pick up off the street—they were incredibly rare.

Yet Zhao Fang had only been traveling for a month and already had two Shinies. If Xiaoyao didn’t know him so well, she might have suspected he was dyeing Pokémon to scam people.

After confirming it was indeed a Shiny, Xiaoyao blurted, "Wait there!" and hurried out in slippers, not even bothering to grab her Pokédex. Moments later, Professor Odagiri’s face appeared on the screen.

"Your luck is remarkable. Giving you the Pokédex was definitely the right choice... but it's too late tonight—the lab is closed. Tomorrow morning, I'll come to Kanaz City to meet you," Professor Odagiri gazed in fascination at the video of the Aurorus. Shiny Pokémon had significant research value; some academic circles even claimed that Shinies were generally superior to their ordinary counterparts.

Zhao Fang nodded at once. On such a cold night, flying back to Weibai Town on a bird Pokémon would have left him not only weak-kneed from his fear of heights, but likely sick as well. Besides, he'd been plagued by recurring dreams of turning into an Unown every night—who knew when it would end.

Those dreams were unbearably dull. Night after night, he dreamed of himself fixed to a wall, enduring endless, dark days. It was pure torment; all he could see was darkness, and if not for the glowing eyes of other Unown, he might have thought he’d gone blind.

After several days of this, Zhao Fang felt like he was serving a prison sentence. He was so bored he started counting the eyes among the Unown, which left him somewhat averse to sleep. It always took ages of tossing and turning before he finally drifted off.

"Ah, another night of torment," Zhao Fang sighed, closing his eyes as he lay in bed. Still, a person needed sleep, and Zhao Fang had no intention of dying young.

…

Once again, Zhao Fang opened his eyes in the dream. Darkness surrounded him, and the eyes of distant Unown were his only source of comfort—at least he wasn’t blind. Just as he began to wonder how long he’d be trapped this time, a sudden light appeared.

A group of people in gray robes entered, carrying a brilliantly colored stone and chanting in a strange language Zhao Fang had never heard. He strained to make out the words, catching only a syllable like “Necro.”

“Necro? What could that be?” Zhao Fang couldn’t make sense of it, but at least there was something new to see.

The gray-robed figures chanted loudly, then knelt and kissed the stone before setting it on the ground. Soon after, they dragged in several Pokémon with iron chains.

“What kind of Pokémon are those? They… almost look like Growlithe.” Zhao Fang’s expression shifted as he studied the varied creatures. Many were unfamiliar, but one, despite its odd appearance, bore a resemblance to Growlithe—except it had long white fur covering its eyes.

As Zhao Fang wondered what the robed people intended, he saw them draw sharp blades. Unable to watch, he closed his eyes, but the anguished cries of the Pokémon still reached him.

When he opened his eyes again, the Pokémon were gone. Blood pooled on the floor, forming a strange pattern. Zhao Fang forced himself to look, struggling with nausea and anger, but due to his vantage point, he could only see part of the design.

The stone in the center absorbed the blood, slowly rising into the air and changing color to match the stone walls. It embedded itself at the peak of the tower, radiating an eerie light.

A stabbing pain shot through Zhao Fang’s forehead, as if someone were extracting his brain with a syringe. Beams of light gathered from the Unown, converging on the stone and bursting into radiant colors.

The light fell to the ground, shaping itself into vivid landscapes. One by one, images of Pokémon were projected onto the floor. The gray-robed people performed some unknown ritual, and the images vanished in an instant. Then they all withdrew.

Darkness returned. When Zhao Fang next opened his eyes, morning had come.

He sprang from bed without hesitation, grabbed paper and pen, and began sketching what he recalled from the dream. Though some details were fuzzy, he managed a rough outline. He planned to consult Professor Odagiri later and see if she recognized any of it.

“That dream… no, it wasn’t a dream. It must have been Unown’s memory,” Zhao Fang mused. He’d always assumed he was simply dreaming, but dreams weren’t this long or vivid. This had to be a memory of the Unown, though he couldn’t imagine why he was being shown it.

He scratched his head. Professor Odagiri had previously translated the inscriptions in the tower—did that mean the tower’s original purpose was to test people, rewarding those who passed? And as for the forms of those Pokémon, perhaps that strange stone, powered by the Unown, simulated them out of thin air. What kind of advanced technology was that? Zhao Fang found the ancients truly terrifying.