Chapter 237: Lei Wen

The next day, the Flying Cloud Art Gallery added several new exhibits.

Most striking and drawing crowds to pause and stare was the previously empty reserved space beside Art Director Adi’s Volcarona piece—now filled, though the new painting’s creator was not Adi.

The work, as if stepped from myth, wrapped in vast deserts and the breath of forgotten time, was mounted in the gallery’s most prominent spot.

Some Unova artists were also present, drawn by the influx of new works; they had come to Flying Cloud seeking inspiration, yet never expected to encounter something even more astonishing.

The painter’s identity remained undisclosed, known only by a strange alias—but several artists living in Flying Cloud had quietly learned through their networks: yesterday, Art Director Adi fought an unusual Gym battle.

The Flying Cloud Gym was not merely a Gym, but one of the sacred sites of art; this painting had indeed been transported from within the Gym, and yesterday’s challenger had been only one.

“The first Pokémon to bring fire to humanity was Heatmor.”

“Thus arose the worship of the sun.”

“What profound influence have Pokémon had on human history?”

“Though Volcarona is hailed as the sun itself, it is Heatmor, its larval form, that truly forged Unova.”

“Human history is Pokémon history.”

“If we lose Pokémon, what remains? It would mean abandoning our emotions and souls.”

Such words spread among the crowd; artists passionately expressed their views to other viewers, each focusing on different aspects.

While the philosophical reflections in the painting certainly provoked thought and debate, what mattered most was the masterful use of color.

It felt natural, as if reaching forward, the surface would ripple and swirl, pulling one into an ancient world long past.

“I think I once entered such a world—a world of only black and white, with no color except the people who lived there; buildings and everything else felt hollow.”

“Hah, that’s probably just your nightmare after artistic inspiration dried up. Unova sometimes has nightmares too—you know that Pokémon called Dream Eater? Though rarely seen, its very existence remains a mystery.”

“Ah, they say it forever floats in the air, appearing at midnight beside the pillows of Pokémon and humans tormented by nightmares, devouring those dreams. Once Dream Eater eats a dream, you wake up forgetting its content.”

“Then I must never have encountered it—I remember that black-and-white world with startling clarity. It didn’t feel like a dream at all.”

The artists’ discussions revealed fragments of the world’s truth, yet neither the artists nor certain hidden observers in the crowd realized the true weight hidden in those words.

A green-haired young man wearing a baseball cap also appeared at the exhibition.

He had been in Lei Wen City and returned to Flying Cloud today; hearing that man had not yet left, he came to the Flying Cloud Art Gallery to clear his mind.

N stood before the Heatmor painting, gazing upward in silence. His gaze grew distant, his spirit slipping into haze—the painting seemed to hold a magical power across time. Faint echoes stirred in his ears, drawing him in, yet he could not tell where they came from.

The scene depicted in the painting filled N with longing.

The first Pokémon ignited fire for humanity; people and Heatmor worked together to build the oldest and largest city on Unova’s land—the most prosperous place, where history was born, and civilization and culture began to spread.

Legends are insubstantial, yet the ruins of the Ancient City were truly unearthed; Unova’s history was thus pushed back thousands of years. According to the Seven Treasures Museum’s records, the Ancient City remained prosperous as recently as 2,500 years ago.

“Yes… Pokémon can abandon humans, but humans cannot live without Pokémon. Few understand this—but what is this painting trying to convey?”

“Is this a rebuttal to Plasma’s ideals? Or a strike against my own actions?”

“But the world depicted in the painting is so beautiful—few humans harmed Pokémon then. Yet if time moves forward, humans will begin using Pokémon for war—that is recorded in history.”

“Displaying this painting is right. More people will realize the bond between humans and Pokémon through it. Perhaps the relationship between them will improve… too bad those who commit evil will never come to see this piece.”

“Emphasizing the history humans and Pokémon built together… hmm.”

N suddenly grew dazed.

He remembered his carefree childhood, spent with Pokémon—before Team Plasma’s Ghetsis “adopted” him. Darumaka, Joltik, and Zorua had been his companions.

That time had grown distant. Since being taken in, living in that grand underground castle, his ears heard only the cries of suffering Pokémon—the hatred and pain of friends harmed by humans—filling his heart, gradually erasing his oldest memories.

Now, for reasons unknown, they reappeared—sharper than ever!

Ah! Yes—humans and Pokémon support each other. Promoting this truth is right!

Not merely separating those who understand each other. Lose one side, and history collapses—it ceases to be the history people know and wish to continue living.

I too once had a childhood spent alongside Pokémon, living in forests and nature. Even then, I believed the future was beautiful.

What was the outside world like? I had been so curious then.

Later, all I felt was hatred and malice.

N sharply pressed down his cap, breathing rapidly. Artists and visitors lost in their own memories noticed his change and asked if he was alright, if he needed rest at the Pokémon Center’s medical station.

Even the Pokémon among the visitors sensed something strange about N—they felt an odd kinship, as if he were half their own kind. This innate closeness made them form a favorable first impression and pay him extra attention.

“Thank you, I’m fine.”

N patted the hat of a Pancham, apologized to the nearby master artist, and explained he had merely been struck by a powerful memory. His breathing steadied. After one last look at the painting, N moved to another “new addition.”

These two works, like “The Initial Fire,” came from the same hand.

Yet N’s mind lingered on his earlier lapse. He stood transfixed, tears welling unbidden; those around him assumed he was moved to tears by the art.

“Strange… who am I crying for? No Pokémon were harmed here. People are calm and kind. The Pokémon’s voices are happy. I merely recalled odd childhood memories.”

“Why do I want to cry? Why? Is this a new equation? I don’t understand.”

Though tears streamed down his face, N’s expression was full of confusion. He wiped them away and began studying the other exhibited work with focus.

One was a statue. Like the painting, it carried the ancient aura of long ages past. Though labeled a replica, the sculpture seemed to have truly endured a strange and wondrous era.

Title: Hero and Repentance.

This drew N’s attention. Yet the hero here was not the Black and White Princes of Unova’s founding legend, nor tied to truth or ideals—but still two figures.

It depicted two distant figures from Sinnoh: one marked as Sinnoh’s ancient hero, the other as the first repentant one, whose history was lost.

A typical sculptor might have portrayed them as two sides of one person—a common artistic device—but N felt otherwise.

Mainly because the sculpture emphasized they were two distinct figures, born in different eras, performing opposite deeds, leaving divergent legends, extending completely opposing histories.

“Sinnoh’s hero once had a hero. The hero led ten Pokémon to challenge Sinnoh. In that great battle, humanity proved its strength. Sinnoh acknowledged human strength and returned to a world not meant for mortals.”

“The Repentant of the Veil.”

“Ah! You’re curious about this piece!” Adi suddenly appeared beside N: “If you don’t mind, let me explain what this statue depicts!”

“This is ancient history from distant Sinnoh, as told by the creator. Even in Sinnoh, it’s a rare legend—nearly lost, like the hero himself.”

“The creator says this statue represents the history of choice. Those who gaze upon it during times of confusion or decision may briefly escape fixed perspectives, seeing themselves and the world anew.”

“It sounds incredible. I don’t know if it’s true or not—but when I look at the statue, I do feel a strange, invisible power. Maybe it’s just my imagination.”

N looked curiously at Adi. Adi did not recognize him—which was natural. As leader of Team Plasma, he certainly wouldn’t parade himself in the news. Even his conversation with Guang Tai occurred only after Officer Junsa had finished her duties.

N: “I’m truly curious—has the hero’s story been lost too?”

Adi: “Yes. The left side of the statue shows the hero standing, raising a sword in its scabbard, in a challenge pose. Around him hover spectral Pokémon. The right side shows the repentant kneeling on one knee, driving a broken sword into the earth before him—a defeated figure, surrounded by emptiness.”

“It’s an asymmetrical large statue.”

“The figure on the right is said to come from a mythic figure of Veil City in Sinnoh—a person whose history is nearly vanished, with no name left behind.”

“In an age far older than the hero on the left, a young man obtained a sword. He used it to hunt Pokémon indiscriminately for food.”

“What he couldn’t eat, he simply discarded. After a year, he could no longer find any prey. The Pokémon had vanished entirely.”

“The young man traveled across mountains and rivers until he finally found Pokémon.”

“He asked: Why have you disappeared?”

“The Pokémon answered quietly: You once wielded your blade to harm my companions. So we too use our fangs and claws to harm yours.”

“Don’t blame us. To protect our own, we had no choice.”

“The young man roared: Since I had this sword, I forgot you too are living beings.”

“I swear I will never do such barbaric things again. This sword will have no further use. I beg your forgiveness.”

“The young man hurled the sword to the ground—it shattered on impact. The Pokémon watched, then vanished without a trace.”

N was moved.

Those who harm Pokémon—even ancient ones—are unforgivable. Yet this man recognized his error. The sword was no mere blade—it was a symbol of harm in myth.

But the Pokémon ultimately did not forgive him, so…

Adi: “If humans and Pokémon oppose each other, they only harm each other. But if they support each other, not only does history arise—even gods in myth can be defeated. Though I don’t know what ‘Sinnoh’ truly means, the creator told me it was the name of a god.”

N: “Pokémon called gods… the founding legend’s dragons bear similar titles.”

Adi laughed: “Yes. Perhaps it truly was a Pokémon—or perhaps an ancient Sinnoh people’s spiritual totem, like how Unova venerates Heatmor, the sun, and the dragons.”

“Much later, the hero on the left appeared. As I said at first—he challenged the god named Sinnoh. Thus, humans and Pokémon once again understood each other. Past mistakes were mended. Lost history turned to dust. And a new age began.”

N understood the meaning of the statue—it had been clearly explained by Art Director Adi.

It was another statue opposing Team Plasma, using myths from another region. Two ancient figures represented the progression of history and the transformation of the human-Pokémon relationship.

“I heard,” Adi gazed thoughtfully at the statue, “that across the distant sea, the scripts of Sinnoh, Kanto, Johto, and Hoenn all evolved from Pokémon sounds.”

N’s eyes widened.

Adi scratched his cheek: “Honestly, I find it incredible too. But the creator told me that region has already researched this and produced results—he showed me some answers.”

“Pokémon understand human speech, but humans cannot understand Pokémon speech. The earliest writing was modeled after a Pokémon’s form. From their cries, combined with those images, words were formed, allowing humans to begin communicating.”

“The answer is: Pokémon did not learn human language. Human language originated from them.”

“Hmm, the creator also said he met a Meowth that could speak human language. Honestly, I thought it sounded like a fairy tale—but the creator… I trust him unconditionally. I think that Meowth might truly exist.”

“A talking Meowth—if mentioned in academia, might become a major research topic, even a philosophical proposition. But think: some Pokémon communicate telepathically with us. Doesn’t that mean they can naturally learn our language?”

“And learn it quickly.”

“Ah! Forgive me! What I mean is: humans and Pokémon are inseparable from birth—we are one soul. Harming Pokémon is harming ourselves. This statue seeks to convey that—from writing to civilization, from past to future.”

“In Unova, our script may differ slightly from other regions, but the overall direction of historical development should be similar.”

N nodded, his expression intensely focused on the statue. After Adi’s explanation, he unexpectedly felt a deeper, faint yet profoundly real connection to it.

Then, childhood memories flashed again in his heart—this time contrasted with strange words his adoptive father, Ghetsis, had once spoken. Many questions stirred within N.

These questions would become unsolvable equations.

“Oh, how fascinating! I’ve never seen such clothing before.”

Adi heard a familiar voice and turned.

“Ah! You’re… here! You came quickly!”

Aty was astonished, because among the visitors in the exhibition area was none other than—though she had donned simple disguises to conceal her true identity, making her unrecognizable to those around her, how could Aty not know her!

She was his own colleague, and moreover, the Gym Leader from the neighboring big city—Kikiko!

The radiant beauty of Reven City, a world-famous teenage model!

She was both a Gym Leader and a fashion model and idol, especially beloved by young women. Advertisements featuring her as a model adorned every corner of the city, and she appeared daily on television, yet in truth, she was a shy girl who struggled to express her will and interact with others.

To release her accumulated stress, she turned to Pokémon battles, and in doing so, gained the strength to become a Gym Leader. In fact, she had a hobby of collecting electric toys and plush toys.

Kikiko’s arrival had been arranged by Aty himself!

“Of course, as a model, I pay close attention to observation. I always keep up with the latest fashion and styles, so if there’s a special exhibit at the Flusse City gallery—especially one recommended by you, Aty—I simply had to come.”

“But this isn’t a vacation—I must return to Reven City before nightfall.”

Aty was not only a renowned artist in Unova, he was also a fashion designer.

Aty’s signature Pokémon, Clobbopus and Garbodor, were loved by fashion designers precisely because they could make clothes from leaves—and for Aty, they were invaluable assistants in his work.

And where had those designed garments been worn? Of course, on Kikiko of Reven City!

The young girl, clad in a trench coat, wide-brimmed hat, and mask, gazed at the special attire before her, then glanced briefly at N, who stood nearby in deep thought.

His aura stood out even in a crowd, like a crane among chickens. Was this why Aty had taken notice of him?

Indeed, he subtly radiated a sense of compassion for all beings—but after viewing that sculpture, that aura seemed to have dimmed.

“You’ve been here a long time, haven’t you?”

Aty suddenly realized the beautiful girl before him had likely arrived long ago.

Kikiko: “I wanted to see the other art exhibits too. Since you were explaining to guests, I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Then, what is the design concept behind this outfit?”

Aty: “Dragons. This outfit is made from the ethereal fabric known as ‘Dragon Fabric.’”

“According to its creator, those who view this garment may rediscover beliefs they once abandoned.”

“It’s modeled after the twin dragons from Unova’s founding legend. Honestly, I was shocked when I first saw it—it’s said to even strengthen bonds with Pokémon and convey one’s feelings.”

Aty’s words caused N, lost in thought beside them, to lift his head.

Kikiko: “It reminds me somewhat of the style of Marsha from Kalos—not entirely modern urban fashion, but with a touch of retro.”

“The name of this outfit is EX: Black and White Interwoven.”

Marsha of Kalos’s designs were highly esteemed in the modeling world; though still young, she was already a fashion icon. But because her style didn’t quite align with Unova’s, and because Kalos was far from Unova—even though they once had close exchanges, recent contact had been rare—Kikiko had never met the girl named Marsha.

But she bought every issue of the magazines.

Aty: “For a glittering, vibrant city like Reven, clothing based on history might feel a bit heavy.”

Kikiko silently stared at the exhibit, a slow smile curving her lips:

“No, I’m very interested in trying it on. So, Aty—has your Garbodor made a ‘replica’ of this outfit yet?”

“I have a fashion show coming up soon. Not bad—I feel this could become the next big trend.”

“Could you introduce me to that artist later? Oh—by the way, the new Psychic Elite Four member gave me something wonderful. Have you noticed my mood has brightened? Yes, yes—all those unstable factors have been eliminated.”

“It’s a strange, big-headed doll. A bit silly, but the longer you look, the cuter it becomes.”

Aty: “That’s unfortunate—he’s had some business and has temporarily left Flusse City. Next time we meet—”

Meanwhile, unnoticed by the two, N slipped away quietly.

Reven… Plasma’s next promotional stop will be Reven. Though it’s an entertainment city, it houses facilities like the Battle Subway—cruel infrastructure that constantly harms Pokémon.

But this time, the goal is merely routine promotion. After the failure in Flusse City, we must be more cautious in Reven, Vaniville, and Castelia. So, it would be best to let Sage Rod handle this—he has the greatest persuasive power.

“I want to go to the Battle Subway,” N murmured to himself.

He didn’t intend to destroy it—Plasma wasn’t yet strong enough for such overt destruction.

N simply wanted to go, just to look, just to listen to the voices of the Pokémon there.

(End of Chapter)