There are four folders in the "photos" app: Important, Miscellaneous, Pokedex and Pokemon.

The most frequently visited is Pokemon, which contains roughly seventy images. As the name suggests, each of these photographs contains a Pokemon, oftentimes front and center as the focal point of the image, but sometimes the alleged Pokemon is little more than a blur or distant figure. Some of these photos have been edited, usually to crop out empty space or to zoom in.

Some have comments left on them. These are always short notes, and usually pertain to the angle a Pokemon was photographed at or a detail that wasn’t captured in full: things like ‘a profile image would be helpful’ or ‘find reference for back pattern’.

This folder is constantly being accessed and its contents modified.

The newest pictures are filed under Pokedex. These images follow a strict pattern: each is a photograph of a piece of paper depicting a Pokemon, and below the artist’s clumsy rendition is a brief overview of that Pokemon. These summaries are printed incredibly clearly, and the writing is legible even in those pictures that turn out blurry and need to be retaken. There are sixteen pages recorded in this folder to date.

This folder was only made recently, but has seen constant additions ever since.

The Miscellaneous folder hasn’t been accessed in some time. It contains a picture of a mountain, a village made of pink tents, blurry blobs of snow falling in the dark, and a still of the night sky. There’s also a single screenshot from some manner of game.

Most recently visited, however, is Important.

Hundreds of images fill this folder, and a key detail is that the dates don’t match the recent additions. These photographs profess to have been taken in the far future, and the scenery depicted in them is like nothing in the others.

Where the contents of Miscellaneous, Pokedex and Pokemon show off landscapes and natural features, there’s a man made beauty to the backdrops displayed in Important: harsh, perfect lines and impossibly smooth curves that make up the sparkling city it depicts.

The Pokemon, too, couldn’t be more distinct from those in Hisui. Many share the exact same dichotomy as the city itself: beautifully spiraling black lines and a flawless glass sphere, crisp silver edges and perfectly concentric rings, asymmetrical limbs studded with industrial steel. These Pokemon belong in this environment, and it makes perfect sense that they would be grouped together.

There are also people, of course. Sometimes it looks like the same person, somehow occupying a single frame twice. More often, though, he’s by himself, beaming at the photographer.

This folder has been open for the past three hours.

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Important gets an addition-- its first in this time frame. It may be the most recent photograph, but it’s dated impossibly far ahead of the rest.

It’s also unique among the bunch in that it’s of a piece of paper, cluttered with clumsy drawings. All in all, it seems like it would be more at home in the Pokedex folder, but into Important it goes.

The most noticeable part of the drawing is front and mostly-center, offset slightly to the left. Pen strokes have retraced the curves over and over again, and while they’re surprisingly thin, the pigment is laid on thick, creating stark spirals and bleeding points. By contrast, the wisps that top them are barely there, little more than the suggestion of a line, which makes the drawing difficult to understand at first glance. It’s not professional or realistic in the slightest, but there’s a beauty in how much care was put into the shape.

It’s joined by another unconventional drawing: curls and squiggles folding in on themselves to create a strange coil of a creature. It would be one thing if it was all round lines, but it isn’t. Sharp points stud it in bizarre fashion, lining the ordinal directions of a too-dark maw. The mouth is terrifying. The eyes are pouting.

There are more, and while they aren’t so bold, there’s a deliberateness to them that makes them just as important. Massive claws and pointed faces, rows of eyes, multitudes of limbs, and more besides. Highlighting the most distinctive and dangerous facets of a creature gives it a subtle horrific quality, but they’re rendered so adoringly that it’s impossible to mistake it for anything but a love letter.

It boasts one more detail that sets it apart from those images in the Pokedex folder: a name.

In the very, very bottom left, written in the same uber-legible print, it’s easy to miss, but there.

Ingo

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Three photos are sorted into Pokedex in rapid succession, and they’re the last for some time. Unlike the entries for Bidoof, Wurmple and Starly, to name a few, these have yet to be completed.

First is clearly labeled ‘Sneasler’, with a subsection set aside for ‘Ohnyula’. It’s by far the emptiest, but the attempts to depict the species are incredibly thorough, even if still clumsy. There’s an idle full-body, which plainly predates the rest looking at the line quality, and a solid attempt at a sketch in profile. A disembodied feather frames one edge, trying to demonstrate the way it twists and how distinct the colors on its either side are. Smaller details cluster in one corner: the faceted diamonds studding the head and chest, the pattern the darker fur of the face falls into, the hooks topping wicked sets of claws.

It all speaks to one fact: at least one specimen was studied up close, and for a substantial amount of time.

The second is for Gligar, and while the visuals consist mostly of a silhouette and the way its body is constructed, it’s contrasted in the amount of information that’s filled out. A great deal of this is technical in nature: its typing, strengths and weaknesses, and a small breakdown of the general statistical layout. In the margins, though, it takes a turn away from numbers and empirical evidence, listing things like preferred foods and flavors, the best moveset at a specific stage of growth and proposed strategies to make the most of an ability.

This is exactly what one might expect a trainer to write about their partner Pokemon.

Last is dedicated to Oshawott, and while it’s not as empty as Sneasler’s entry, the information here is cursory. Typing, abilities, stats and moves. The content is there, but it stands as a question more than an answer. It’s anticipatory.

It’s a jumping-off point.

---

Off and on within the span of a week, pictures are added to Pokemon.

These aren’t reference photos or the observation of wild Pokemon like the rest. For one thing, they’ve been taken indoors, against the common backdrop of wooden flooring and white walls or dark screens. For another, none of them show new species.

There’s a picture of a stinger-tipped tail hanging out of an otherwise closed basket, Sneasler resting her chin on a windowsill as she looks out, and Oshawott hopelessly tangled in crisp white sheets.

All of them are far less practical than those that came before. They’re domestic, even. A small collection is building, consisting entirely of Gligar hanging from things he shouldn’t; there’s no academic value to be found in that, purely personal amusement.

After the week has passed, the setting finally changes.

---

The camera starts up nestled in the grass, the bottom right hand corner framed by a root curving up into a trunk. Both the distance and this unorthodox point of view put into perspective just how massive the subject of the recording really is.

Evening light falls over the impossibly thick trunk of a tree, cutting through shade lent by the surrounding forest. Over the course of several seconds, the image pans up to include several colossal branches and the edge of a canopy, but the sheer size of it and the specific vantage point mean that it simply can’t be seen in full.

As the device is returned to its original angle, the cameraman inches forward. The only way he could be getting this viewpoint is if he was flat on his stomach, and as he drags himself nearer, a shuddering hiss escapes from behind the lens.

He remains silent beyond that, waiting. It takes some time, but, eventually, something emerges from behind the ancient tree.

The first thing anyone would reasonably notice are the thick slabs of dark stone, and then follow to their source: a light brown creature with similar rocks acting as a crest on its face and head. Its arms seem like they should be too thin to heft the wickedly sharp stones that take the place of its hands, but it hefts them around like its done so every day of its life.

For several minutes, the camera remains fixed on it, watching it pace its territory and sharpen the veritable axes at the end of its arms. At one point, it impales a berry on the opposite end of one appendage-- what would normally be the blunt end of an axe, but, in this case, still boasts a spike-- to nibble at it.

Unwilling to risk so much as a breath too loud, the cameraman lets it play out without commentary and then, once the Pokemon’s attention is safely on the opposite side of the pit, works his way backwards, past where he’d began filming, until the only visible part of the gorge is the grand trunk emerging from it. He lets out a relieved sigh, and immediately seems to regret it, if the resultant gasp is anything to judge by.

Gradually, he finds his way to his feet and moves into a lightly forested area, only to slide down an incline and then, presumably, lean against it.

“I’m not sure what that was,” He says, device aimed vaguely at a shaking berry tree on the ledge above, “But it doesn’t seem like a far stretch to guess that it’s related to Scyther and Scizor. It has the thin thorax and proportionately larger abdomen of an insect, so I would hazard that its typing still reflects that. Would it be presumptuous to guess at a rock and bug type? I do know that it’s likely one of the clans’ Noble Pokemon.”

Pushing away from the incline, he turns sharply to the left and walks until a pair of banners become visible. Both are a subtle orange gradient, presumably with Hisuian written on them. The most eye catching detail, however, is the abstract depiction of a Pokemon: axes on full display and, indeed, depicting the exact thorax-to-abdomen ratio that Ingo had commented upon.

“I’ve copied the characters down as best I can, so I should be able to ask someone what they mean the next time I visit Jubilife.” The camera moves, focusing on the lanterns hanging from either side of the banner’s framework, where long-hardened puddles of wax remain, the candle’s wick burnt down to nearly nothing. From there, it travels down, to a circular medallion dangling from the lantern. In short order, it moves on to the other side, decorated with a metal pentagon. “I would approach the attendant here, but there doesn’t seem to be one, and I suspect there hasn’t been for some time. Oh, but look!”

As he says it, he swings the camera down in a dizzying arc and climbs onto a mossy rock. Once he’s found his balance, he angles the camera at one of the carvings that tops the banner.

“They’re Gible! Isn’t that cute? I wonder if Gible have some sort of significance to the Clans…” He trails off for a moment, and in that thoughtful silence, brushes away a clump of accumulated lichen, making the resemblance more obvious. “Drayden might know-- or, if he doesn’t, I suspect he would be interested in it.”

He hops down, eliciting a pained-sounding ‘hw-oof’ and then straightens up, panning around the area.

“I don’t know where Sneasler’s gotten off to. She was trying to herd me somewhere earlier, but I was so worried about making up for lost time that, admittedly, I wasn’t listening very well.”

When it’s made clear that Sneasler isn’t lurking in the furrows of terrain above, he moves to travel the wooden steps set into the soil. There’s a pause to look over another statue, its base covered in dirt and body dotted with more moss. “I’m not sure if this is also meant to be a Gible. The ‘fin’ doesn’t seem to match, but that could be the artist’s interpretation. Far be it from me to criticize anyone else’s artistic ability…”

Passing through several more sets of statues, the path eventually curves into a river. He makes a point of walking through the tall grass as he follows it, the camera still wandering the area, showing off the meandering Psyduck and a single Buneary that quickly darts away. Eventually it idles on a berry tree, where a familiar pink shape hangs.

“And what are you doing up there?” He asks Gligar, which proceeds to open its wings and unleash a rain of berries over its trainer’s head. There’s a ‘plunk’ as one hits the camera dead on, and behind it, Ingo sputters.

Dryly, he says, “Thank you,” and stoops to retrieve the small bounty, setting the device aside to record grass while he does so.

“Rawst berries? That’s… kind of you.”

Somewhere above, Gligar chirps back.

When he’s finished with the task, he picks the camera back up, but doesn’t bother aiming it at anything in particular. Water lazily flows past, a Psyduck riding its slow current.

The camera moves as he reaches up, and Gligar’s silhouette just barely emerges from the shadow of the berry tree, alighting on its trainer’s shoulder. The outline is made indistinct due to its presence, but the way the humanoid part moves-- combined with the noises that follow-- suggest that one of the berries has made its way into Gligar’s mouth.

“Do you know where Sneasler went? I’m afraid I was rather dismissive of her earlier, and I need to apologize.”

Whatever response Gligar gives, it isn’t caught by the recording, but his trainer turns and then startles. His free hand flies up, flashing past the lens as the device is pressed to his chest in some small, feeble defense mechanism.

There’s a popping sound as a small shape materializes, its stubby white arms held out as far as it can, interposing itself between the insect and human.

Both Sneasler and the Pokemon from the tree continue to amble toward him, unbothered by this tiny guardian.

“But I was just-- how could you have possibly managed to--?” The camera jostles as its operator gives himself a full-body shake, snapping back to it, “Oshawott, please get back behind the yellow line. I’m sure Sneasler knows what she’s doing.”

It inches back-- past what the camera can capture from this angle-- but its navy ears still poke into the frame from below.

A clawed hand raises up and Sneasler snickers behind it. The other Pokemon stops further back than she does, but it isn’t saying much, since she walks directly up to and then past him, stopping somewhere nearby.

“Sna wrr Er-lea”

“Ev-a orre.”

For a long minute, the Pokemon studies him, and when it seems it’s seen enough, rattles at Sneasler before turning to leave.

There’s a long, relieved sigh, and then the camera pans to Sneasler.

“Don’t scare me like that!” As an afterthought, it shifts haphazardly back to Oshawott, “You either!”

The last thing one might hear, as he goes through the motions of shutting the device off, is a conceding, “Good work, though, Gligar. You still threw things at me, but they weren’t rocks this time, and I consider that progress.”