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>You're dreaming once again. How did it get like this? Memories of your success flood your mind.
>Riding high like a big roller, only for the dream to take a drastic turn: a tall man's face cast in shadow.
>You see him pull a gun on you, now a ghost outside your own body, watching him pull the trigger.
>You wake up screaming, finding your new body. It's not how it should be, and you look around frantically.
>Finding yourself in the ocean bed, among a sea of coral and Pokémon... Did you die, or was that life before you just a dream?
>Answers you had to learn, but put on the back burner for now... Now this body... you have to figure out how to move it.
>You jump forward, getting some pretty good movement. The sea around you puts pressure on you, but it's like you were designed for it.
>You throw out a jab, and it's seamless. Your body does all the work. You feel like you could body anyone with these "hands." Well, uh, tentacles.
>If that dream had any truth, you would make the man who betrayed you understand why you were the top dog.
>Revenge and riches: you always remembered that. Even your old man taught you that anyone can be bought and sold.
>Or know someone they could easily do the same. You may be an old dog, but you could learn tricks, and could teach them just as easily.
>A true rags-to-riches story, with a little revenge for good measure. For now, you needed to figure out where the fuck you were.
>Swimming up, you try to get a good sense of your surroundings: a lot of rocks and a lot of damn water. Man, kind of bland, isn't it?
>You see some nearby trainers. They were seemingly swimming around for Pokémon, no doubt.
>Sneaking nearby to listen in for potential hints.
>"Man, you hear about these Team Magma and Team Aqua guys?" "Yeah, they seem like bad news for Hoenn. Anyway, wanna head to Route 133? The rapids are pretty fun, the ride." "Hell yeah!"
>Hoenn, eh? Sounds like a good start, but before you get moving, you should probably get used to swimming.
