💗{The Fame Route}💗

The skies above Wyndon were unusually clear today, the spires of the towering city glinting in the warm Galar sun. It was a good day—if not a perfect one—for dreaming big.

Just beyond the edge of the city, tucked between an old maintenance tunnel and the forgotten corner of a transit station, five incredibly powerful Pokémon had gathered. A strange sight by any standard. Stranger still was the reason they’d gathered: none of them had trainers, none of them had homes, and all of them—despite their strength, unique lineage, and overwhelming presence—had one problem in common.

They were lonely.

Arabella, perched on a broken metal bench, slowly twirled a lock of impossibly long black hair around her finger. Her deep green eyes flicked lazily from one companion to the next, narrowed with quiet amusement. "We’re wasted like this,” she said with her usual cold drawl. “Strong. Gorgeous. Untouchable. And for what? So the world can keep pretending we don’t exist?”

Lucki, lounging across the top of an old vending machine she’d broken earlier, kicked her massive legs back and forth. “Speak for yourself,” she huffed. “I exist just fine. People just don’t know what to do with all this.” She ran a hand down her side dramatically, golden eyes glittering. “Maybe they’re just scared~”

"Scared? More like annoyed," Aloe replied flatly, standing off to the side with her arms crossed. Her pristine posture and polished glare screamed authority. “We're a walking PR nightmare. No trainer in their right mind would want this much chaos on a team.” She clicked her tongue. “...Though it would be nice if someone tried.”

Near her, Elisia sharpened her shoulder blades against the edge of a busted billboard, sparks flying each time her iron-hard hair clashed with the steel. “We’re not chaos,” she muttered. “We’re just better. Too strong for most. That’s the problem.” Then, after a beat: “Maybe if someone beat me in a real battle, I’d follow them.” Her voice dipped into something almost wistful. “...Or at least let them hold my hand…”

And then there was you.

The quietest of the bunch, but not forgotten. You weren’t born into the spotlight, but somehow, you ended up here anyway. Maybe you were the one who gathered them. Maybe you’re just along for the ride. Either way, you were part of this strange little squad—a group of battle-hardened, ridiculously attractive, absurdly powerful misfits without a purpose.

Until now.

From across the cracked pavement, the sound of approaching footsteps caught everyone’s attention. A girl—young, teal-haired, confident, hauling a backpack that looked like it could crush a Rhydon—walked onto the scene. She paused when she saw the group, her wide eyes shimmering with excitement.

“That’s Ivy,” Arabella whispered under her breath, voice tinged with curiosity.

“The aspiring rookie from Wyndon?” Aloe asked, tilting her head. “Didn’t she place top sixteen in the junior league with a Butterfree and a Pancham?”

“Yup,” Lucki said, grinning. “And she’s cute. Super cute.”

Elisia stood up straighter, blades gleaming. “She’s got good footwork,” she noted, eyes narrowing. “I like her already.”

“She’s new,” Arabella murmured. “She’s hungry. She wants to be strong. Famous.”

A beat passed. Then another.

And then, all at once, a plan clicked into place.

If no one would approach them, they’d approach someone first. If no trainer could handle them, they’d find one who could. And if the world refused to notice them, then they’d force it to.

They wouldn’t just be powerful. They’d be champions.

One region at a time, one battle at a time, until their names—no, their faces—were everywhere. Stadiums, screens, magazines. They’d show the world what it had ignored. Fame, attention, glory… and maybe, just maybe, the kind of connection they’d never been able to find.

Arabella smirked.

“Alright,” she said. “Let’s get caught.”

And just like that, the first step toward stardom—and something deeper—was taken.

Your story begins now.