Making Game: CH 167 – Pokémon Arena (Patreon)

The morning release of Pokémon Arena brought winding queues to neighborhood convenience stores and authorized retail depots across every settled star system.

On Nexus Prime, Vane began his daily walk toward the regional Accord administrative offices. His personal audio earpiece played a steady stream of rock arrangements composed by Percival. 

Lately, his favorite playlist belonged to Norva Park, an energetic rock band that had been dropping driving, guitar-heavy tracks since their debut. Being a native of Nexus Prime gave Vane an extra layer of personal fondness for their work, especially because the musicians had taken their name from the bustling transit park where he had spent countless afternoons during his youth.

Percival's music had left a deep imprint on his life. The broadcast of Wind of Change had resonated through the civic towers during a period of intense public unrest, calming the planet and preserving the peace of Nexus Prime in a very literal sense.

As Vane rounded the corner past an elevated rail terminal, an unusual sight broke his morning rhythm. A dense line of people snaked around the perimeter of a convenience store that had opened its doors only minutes earlier.

In high spirits, Vane let his curiosity take over. He stepped up toward a woman near the front half of the line.

"Excuse me," Vane said, offering a friendly nod. "Is there some sort of special limited-time promotion going on today?"

The woman turned her head, giving him a sharp, protective glance. "The back of the line begins three blocks down that way, friend."

Vane let out an awkward chuckle, holding his hands up placatingly. "Ah, don't worry, I have no intention of cutting in. I only wondered what brought everyone out so early."

The woman's defensive posture relaxed into an easy grin. "Oh. We are all waiting to pick up the Pokégg 2.0."

Recognition clicked in Vane's mind. He had seen the commercial teasers during the evening data broadcasts. His twin boys had been chattering endlessly about holographic monster battles for the past two weeks. With their birthdays arriving next month, this solved his gift shopping entirely.

"I understand now," Vane said, his smile genuine. "Thank you for the answer."

He stepped away with a lighter stride and a confident plan, already intending to log into the studio's retail portal the moment he reached his desk.

…

Across the galaxy in the Core Rims, the luxurious sky lanes and pristine districts of Planet Sunel were caught up in the exact same wave of excitement.

Outside a high-end electronics boutique set between polished marble arcades, Idroy Zis stepped through the automatic doors into the warm morning air. He held a sealed box containing the brand new Pokégg 2.0 in one hand, while his other hand held a metallic voucher card printed with an access code for Pokémon Arena. He was burning with anticipation to fire up the system.

The teenager glanced back toward the entrance, watching for his girlfriend.

Luyu Gwen emerged a moment later, slipping a sleek package under her arm.

Idroy raised an eyebrow. "Wait, I thought you decided to buy the pink one?"

Luyu lifted her box to catch the sunlight, showing off the bright casing. "I was, until I saw this yellow edition on the showcase shelf. Look, it has a Pikachu stamped right onto the corner."

She tilted her head, a knowing smirk touching her lips. "Let me guess what you picked. Charizard?"

Idroy chuckled, proudly flipping his own box around. The matte black casing featured the silver outline of a shiny Charizard, gleaming beneath a glossy protective coat.

"Naturally," Idroy said, puffing out his chest. "Now tell me, aren't you glad I convinced you to queue up three hours before opening?"

Luyu tapped her fingertip against her cheek, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "I suppose so. However, missing all that beauty sleep means I'll need a new batch of skin cream to recover."

Idroy gave an awkward chuckle as the obvious hint hit home. "Fine, fine. We can go shopping on the upper promenade tonight."

…

While the wider galaxy lost itself in the craze of holographic battles and new handheld devices, the gods of Olympus took full advantage of their newly anchored physical freedom. They were no longer restricted to the marble colonnades of their mountain sanctuary.

Demeter chose to wander the rolling agrarian fields of Obelia II. The pastoral world reminded her of ancient Gaia. The endless horizons of fertile soil and the quiet, weathered faces of the planetary laborers brought a soft ache to her chest, constantly bringing thoughts of Persephone to the surface.

She paused beside an orchard path, gazing up at a grove of fruit trees that closely mirrored terrestrial citrus groves, save for the vibrant blue hue of the heavy, spherical rinds. She extended a graceful hand, letting her fingertips brush the cool skin of a hanging fruit. A wistful smile touched her lips.

"You would love this world, Kore," she murmured into the breeze.

She looked past the grove toward a crew of soil workers carefully aerating the roots with handheld repulsor tines. With a subtle flick of her wrist, she released a warm, golden pulse of vitality into the earth below their boots. The soil darkened, soaking in rich nutrients that caused the blue fruit overhead to swell with sweet juice.

"Alas," she whispered quietly, "a minor blessing is the limit of what I can offer."

Scanning the horizon across the continental valley, Demeter spotted vibrant streams of atmospheric fliers congregating above a sprawling trade hub. The banners and holographic streamers rippling over the pavilions signaled an agricultural festival in full swing.

Deciding to join the festivities, she adjusted her form before stepping into the crowd. She manifested practical attire inspired by the local workers: a simple linen dress beneath a deep green apron, paired with a wide-brimmed straw hat to shield her eyes. 

Even with the humble clothing, her statuesque posture and regal elegance drew curious glances from passing couriers. Once she stepped beneath the grand entry arch of the festival grounds, the surrounding commotion swallowed the scrutiny entirely.

Demeter wandered down the bustling aisles with genuine curiosity. She paused before the machinery pavilions, observing mechanical utility kits designed for field hands. There were automated pruning attachments, specialized hovering compadres calibrated for pest control, and mechanical back-and-knee support exoskeletons identical to the heavy harness John Kepler wore during harvest seasons. She stopped by local farm stalls, tasting sweet honey pastries and spiced tubers handed out by vendor families.

A massive pavilion labeled with glowing holo-script caught her eye: Annual Imperial Giant Crop Exhibition.

She stepped through the entry curtains into a vast hall filled with astonishing produce. Immense vegetables rested on reinforced display cradles, categorized into distinct regional farming leagues.

Demeter smiled as she approached an enormous, ribbed gourd resembling an ancient pumpkin, swollen to the size of a fully grown man. A polished copper plaque at the base credited the cultivator as a farmer named Ewron.

Further down the aisle, her steps slowed. A middle-aged woman and her teenage daughter were laughing together as they polished the glossy exterior of a colossal striped melon. The easy warmth between them hit Demeter with sudden, poignant force. She saw her own memories mirrored in their smiles, back when she and Kore tended the sacred earth side by side.

Her expression softened with bittersweet longing.

"Our family was finally reunited," Demeter murmured softly to herself, "yet here we are, scattered across the stars once again."

…

Light-years away, on the glittering pleasure of Sela's moon, Dionysus embraced an entirely different pace of existence.

Deep within a neon-drenched nightclub, the God of Wine was living in absolute ecstasy. The bass thrummed through the illuminated dance floor with enough force to rattle ribs. Dionysus casually stepped behind the elevated console, playfully elbowed the resident technician aside, and grabbed the primary audio microphone.

"Raise your hands, everyone!" he shouted, his voice washing over the crowd with intoxicating charisma.

The packed floor erupted into wild cheers as synth lights painted the ceiling in iridescent violet. Dionysus leaned over the chrome railing, pointing an ornate, ring-adorned finger toward a bewildered young man in the VIP lounge.

"You, darling," Dionysus called out with a raucous laugh, "go book a private suite with that lovely girl beside you. We're going to have some real fun together tonight. Let us show this entire city that three is far better than two!"

He turned his head, blowing an exaggerated kiss to the dancer draped over his shoulder. He delivered a slow, wicked wink, and the girl giggled, flashing a mischievous wink right back.

Across varied sectors and wildly divergent worlds, the Olympians explored the mortal plane on their own terms. As long as Zeus refrained from turning into a swan and making the sequel to Trojan war, Dorian saw no reason to place boundaries on their cosmic holidays.

…

Thirteen-year-old Junior Oryn Lyn stood at the front of the classroom, resting his hands flat against the wooden podium.

The room belonged to the school's newly official Video Game Society. What had started as a tiny, unsanctioned circle of hobbyists now possessed a crisp, laminated charter stamped with the headmaster's official seal. 

Everything had changed the moment Junior released his action-oriented educational title, Spell Champion. The game had gained traction across student networks, eventually catching the eye of Round Table Studio's reclusive director. 

Arthur Pendragon himself had publicly reviewed the project, calling it "genuinely fun." Following that incredible endorsement, Junior and his club members had poured every afternoon into polishing the mechanics into a full-fledged release.

Now, several eager lower-grade students filled the desks, hanging on Junior's every word. Today's general meeting had started normally enough with discussions on future update patches for Spell Champion, along with loose brainstorms for their next project.

Junior brought the discussion to an abrupt halt. He leaned forward over the podium, his expression dropping into deadpan seriousness. He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial murmur.

"Did everyone bring it?"

The room went instantly still. Desks creaked under shifting elbows. Several freshmen exchanged wide-eyed, nervous glances, suddenly feeling like low-level couriers caught in an interstellar smuggling ring.

In the second row, a younger boy named Toby broke into a visible sweat. He fidgeted with his sleeves, staring down at the floor as if hoping the tiles would swallow him whole.

Junior narrowed his eyes, locking onto the boy. "Speak up, Toby."

Toby raised two trembling hands in defense, his voice cracking with sheer panic. "I bought it, boss! I swear on my life I bought it the second the store doors opened! The orbital transit shuttle broke down on the morning commute, and I was running so fast to beat the bell that I left the package sitting on my nightstand!"

Junior slowly pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head with exaggerated gravity. "You disappoint me yet again, Toby. After weeks of preparation, you show up empty-handed."

Toby looked ready to sink beneath his desk.

Junior pointed a sharp finger toward the classroom whiteboard. "Your sentence is decided. You are managing the tournament bracket today. Every single matchup and score runs through your terminal."

Toby gasped, clutching his chest in theatrical relief. "Yes, boss! Right away, boss!"

A wave of snickers washed through the classroom. Junior smiled, breaking character as he reached into his jacket. The rest of the club members did the same, pulling out their brand-new Pokégg 2.0 units and setting the pristine devices onto the desks.

Junior held his unit high. "Let the tournament commence!"

Toby scrambled to the primary display console and launched a digital bracket generator. The software shuffled the registered roster and beeped loudly, displaying the very first pairing on the wall screen.

Coincidentally, Junior's name occupied the top slot.

Junior grinned, rolling his shoulders. "Looks like fate put me on the stage first. Get ready."

His opponent rose from the front row. It was the club treasurer, a composed girl who pushed her wire-rimmed glasses up the bridge of her nose without a word.

The two walked to the open space cleared in the center of the room. They stepped forward and shook hands with competitive formality. The treasurer reached into her pocket, pulled out the sleek, metallic Arena Card that came packaged with the device, and placed it flat on the linoleum floor between them.

Both trainers retreated three paces, holding their Pokégg 2.0 units outward like duelists.

They pressed the primary holographic activation switches simultaneously.

Twin pillars of azure and gold light erupted from the handheld emitters, intersecting directly over the metallic card on the floor. The projection expanded outward in a circular ripple, anchoring a miniature stadium complete with glowing perimeter rings, simulated terrain textures, and overhead scoreboard displays.

A freshman watching from the sidelines leaned forward, his mouth open. "Whoa! Look at the resolution on those light fields! I heard through the forums that the new booster card packs include alternate arena skins like volcanoes and sunken ruins!"

Before anyone could answer, the two handheld units chimed in unison. The devices unlocked their combat channels, allowing both trainers to authorize their active roster selections.

Flashes of digital light burst across opposite ends of the field, materializing their chosen partners into full view.

On Junior's side, a towering Blaziken landed with a heavy thump, its feathered crest flaring as phantom embers flickered around its muscular wrists.

Across the ring, a graceful Meganium materialized on the treasurer's flank, the pink petals surrounding its neck unfurling while gentle, simulated leaves drifted into the air.

Neither player had revealed their secret training rosters before the tournament, making the reveal an immediate shock to both sides.

Junior pumped his fist, grinning at the obvious type advantage. Fire against Grass was practically a gift from lady luck herself.

The treasurer didn't flinch. She simply tapped the corner of her spectacles, her calm expression never wavering. "A lucky draw, Junior. Remember that the battle has barely begun."

…

A full week had passed since launch day, and the competitive fever surrounding Pokémon Arena showed no signs of cooling down.

Round Table Studio had spent virtually nothing on traditional marketing campaigns for the title. The hardware itself handled every bit of promotion with effortless grace. Wherever citizens gathered, glowing projection rings were sure to follow.

In the bustling Core Rim metropolises, nobody could walk through an urban district without stumbling across miniature battlefields. Neighborhood grav-ball courts stood half-abandoned in the evenings because local teenagers had commandeered the sidelines to run impromptu tournaments. 

City parks, transit hubs, and elevated sky-walks flickered with holographic creatures clashing in midair. Some dedicated fans went completely all out, walking down the avenues in full trainer regalia, complete with stitched vests, visors, and utility belts lined with decorative capsules.

Commuters who had spent years staring silently past one another during transit rides suddenly struck up lively conversations on the platforms. Complete strangers traded tips on EV training, compared rare natures, and showed off custom decorative cases clipped to their Pokégg 2.0 units.

The hardcore battle enthusiasts who usually spent eighteen hours a day glued to their private desktop rigs were drawn out into the open air as well. Several prestigious in-game achievements and exclusive title cards required players to synchronize their home Arena profiles with verified real-world Pokégg encounters. If a competitive player wanted to display a gold-tier badge on their account, they had to step away from their desk, grab their handheld device, and search the neighborhood for other trainers.

Among the endless waves of battle clips and tournament highlights flooding the net, a single post on the Avalon network captured the attention of the entire galactic community.

The post was titled: 

To Arthur Pendragon and the Round Table Studio team, from a grateful mother.

"I'm writing this because I honestly don't know how else to express what your work has done for my family. My eight-year-old son has been homeschooled for over a year. He went through a terrible bullying incident at his previous primary academy, an ordeal that left him completely terrified of the outside world. He stopped looking people in the eye. He would shake whenever the front door opened, terrified that someone from school had come to mock him. As his parents, my husband and I felt utterly powerless. We watched the bright light in our little boy slowly fade away."

"When the animated series began airing, he watched the pilot with us from the sofa. It was the first time in months that I saw his eyes sparkle again. He watched Ash stand in front of that flock of wild Spearow to protect Pikachu, and something clicked deep inside him. We started playing the main games together every evening. We collected companions, learned the type charts, and slowly, step by step, we regained the boy we thought we had lost to grief."

"Yesterday morning, while I was preparing breakfast, he walked up to my side. He was holding his Pokégg tightly against his chest. He reached out, gently tugged my apron, and whispered: "Mom, can we go to the public park down the street? I think I want to try a battle.""

"I dropped my spatula, fell to my knees, and hugged him so hard I started to cry. My husband took off work early, and the three of us walked to the park together. He held his father's hand the whole way, stepped onto the green grass, and had his very first holographic battle with a little girl who was walking her hound. He lost the match, yet he walked home with the biggest smile I have seen in two years."

"Thank you, Arthur Pendragon. Thank you to every developer, artist, and engineer at Round Table Studio. You gave my son his courage back."

The upload exploded across the community hub, accumulating hundreds of thousands of shares in a matter of hours. The replies beneath the post formed an outpouring of pure solidarity:

>: IronTitan_99 "This is more than enough to make a grown man weep. Give your boy a massive high-five from all of us out in the shipyard."

>: PalletTownRanger "Every single journey begins with one brave step out of the front door. Ash had to face down an entire storm on his very first day, and your little champion faced his own fears as bravely. Tell him he has an entire galaxy of trainers standing right behind him."

>: SolarVanguard "Who left cutting onions in the comments section? If any bully ever bothers that kid again, let the forum know. We will show up with a full armada of level-one-hundred Tyranitars to escort him to the park."

>: StarlightNurse "As someone who works in pediatric rehabilitation, games like this do something medicine can't always achieve. They build safe bridges back to reality. Wishing your little boy endless victories on his path!"

Before long, the trending thread found its way into the official Round Table Studio internal group channel.

Liseli dropped the link into the general room with three crying emojis attached.

Liseli: Art, did you see this yet? Can we please send something special to him?

Arthur read through the mother's letter on his private console, resting his chin on his steepled fingers. A warm, quiet swell filled his chest.

Arthur: We should definitely send a package. Let's do it discreetly, though. Send it through our private courier service. The last thing that family needs right now is a swarm of net reporters camping out on their front door.

Kasavin: Already on it. I'll pull a complete set of collector plushies, an assortment of custom Pokégg shells, and an official trainer cap from the limited storage vault. We will have it delivered to their doorstep by tomorrow morning.

Liseli: You are the best, Kas!

Arthur set his datapad down on the composer desk in his home studio.

Outside the window, the soft winter breeze rustled through the frost-dusted leaves of the valley. When he had first accepted the Creator System, his sole objective was to keep his family secure and provide a comfortable life for the people he loved. He had never imagined that the digital worlds he forged would reach across light-years of cold, empty space to heal the heart of a terrified child he had never even met.

A peaceful smile touched Arthur's lips as he looked out across the quiet fields, feeling profoundly grateful for the journey that lay ahead.