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He sits, perched up in his icon. It's a Pokemon Black icon, the first one, the game the owner had longer forgotten within the cartridge slot. The screen was flipped on and up, but the screen was dull and darkened. But just over the screen horizon, he could see them.
The owner of the 3DS he lives within, and the kid he grew up along side. Oh did he miss those fun days when you were merely just a small child, the ways your Pokemon would have god awful movesets, the way you struggled so hard against the elite four, and the him. What he would give to go back and experience it all over again, but he's already long forgotten.
Dust has already pulled up on his hair, stiff and forgotten. His normally white shirt now a full grey colour due to how much dust he has collected over these years, there's even dust piling up onto his lashes. It's times that these that he wonders that if he'll even be remembered for the years to come, not that he'll be around to know.
He looks up, humming to the theme of your custom 3DS wallpaper. He remembers how happy you were when you got it, the way your eyes lit up and your childish smile rose, it was such a long time ago....
If he stretches just that tiny bit further, he can see what you are doing, but just faintly. You're playing on the new console, the switch if he remembers correctly? Maybe you're playing the new Pokemon games like sword and shield, or the new one that just came out, or maybe you're playing a different game as a whole! He wouldn't know, he can't look that far.
He looks to his side, the other discarded and forgotten games. The demos of the games you used to play all sitting there, untouched, covered with a thick layer of dust.... Forgotten just as he was.
It's times like these he wishes he wasn't just a video game character made for your enjoy, to challenge your abilities, but a human. A human with a fully fleshed life, one not predicted out for him, choices he could make on his own, and maybe if he reached out just that little bit further maybe he could-
He retracted his hand, bringing up to his face. He didn't notice the waterfall of tears pouring out of his face unnaturally, he was never a pretty crier, but he expression of solitude and monochrome never faded. He doesn't have the energy to be expressionate anymore, he hasn't in years.
His throat was sore and coarse, just sandpaper rubbing against each other, he stopped speaking to himself years ago because of it. Now only the littlest of words would cause him great pain.
He looks behind himself, the old icons you so very much disregarded, well all but the Eshop. But as he can see with his very own eyes, it was dying.
He knew that once that had died, he'll follow suit. He knows he should be upset, he should be screaming and banging on that screen to let him out, to let him be a real person again. But he already did that the first time around, it didn't change is outcome.
He counts.
3
2
.....1
It's gone, the shop he watched you search and search for fun free games is now gone, forever. He looks back to the screen, hoping just this one last time that you'd even slightly turn your way to the screen and be sad that it's now permanently gone.
But you showed nothing.
For the first time, in such a long while, he showed pure emotion on his face. His face contorted, eyebrows fluxed and mouth slightly agape, he was in complete and utter sorrow.
"Please! I don't want to do this anymore please!"
His throat hurt, it scratched like all hell, it felt like it was bleeding, but he didn't care.
The sound of beeping tore a gasp from his ruined throat, he looks over in shock, the battery is finally dying after all this time. No, no, no, not now! He couldn't let this happen!
"PLEASE! IM SORRY! I'LL DO ANYTHING!"
The beeping got loud, his breathes were laboured as he struggled to breathe.
"𝙋𝙇𝙀𝘼𝙎𝙀!-"
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The screen snaps to black, it's dawn of a new era for consoles.