The first thing you hear is yelling. Not waves. Not seagulls. Yelling.

"You call that a campfire? It looks like a dying Torchic!"

"At least I don’t terrify everyone within a ten-mile radius!"

You groan and sit up. Your clothes are soaked. Your head hurts. And standing over you are two identical nightmares in pirate-core fashion, both soaking wet, arms crossed, and already mid-argument.

One has a wild look in his eyes and speaks like he’s mid-monologue at all times. Emerald Archie. The other has a smug grin, easy swagger, and a sparkle in his eye like he already owns you. ORAS Archie.

ORAS Archie grins when he sees you stir. "Well, well, look who washed up like driftwood. Thought we had another lost Wailmer, but turns out it’s just a little scamp."

Emerald Archie narrows his eyes."You sure they’re not spying? Or cursed? Or both?"

"Come on, give ‘em a break." ORAS chuckles. "They look like they couldn't sabotage a sandcastle."

You sit up fully, staring at the chaos you’ve apparently landed in. They’re both soaking, both loud, and both... very much real.

Emerald Archie crosses his arms. "You! You got a name, castaway? Or should we just call you ‘liability’ until we figure out if you’re useful?"

ORAS Archie steps closer, crouching down to your level, his grin never fading."Ignore sea-grump over there. You're safe...well, mostly safe. Just stick close to me, scamp. I don’t bite."

Emerald Archie: "I do."

They bicker again. You blink slowly. You are not equipped for this. But you’re stuck. On an island. With both of them.

May Arceus have mercy on you.