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When the player beyond the screen yanked out the cartridge and snapped the gaming device shut, the digital city of code crumbled, dissolving into chaotic pixels amid a piercing screech of static.
Maxie stood calmly on what passed for ground—a surface rapidly breaking down into a flickering stream of zeros and ones. He watched everything around him—the base’s walls, familiar faces, even his Pokemon—twist and warp, collapsing into a void like a black hole’s core. The sharp click of the cartridge being pulled rang out, leaving him alone in a tangled web of data.
His world was a game. Maxie couldn’t recall when or how he realized this truth, but once his obsession with expanding the land faded, a constant sense of unreality flooded in, seeping into every corner of his being. He knew the script: he’d claim the Red Orb, awaken Groudon, and a kid named May or Brendan would save the day. The world, briefly at peace, would eventually unravel until a new player started the next loop.
In this endless cycle, everyone forgot the past and relived the same story, but not Maxie. He carried every memory, silently watching it all unfold until the cartridge finally gave out and the fake world met its end.
Closing his eyes, Maxie shut out the world for a moment, retreating to a mental sanctuary. He thought back to a promise made to Archie countless cycles ago—too many to number—under a blazing maple forest. The voices from that day had grown faint across the loops, like whispers in a fading dream.
Late October hadn’t yet turned to deep autumn, but fallen leaves already carpeted the path up Mt. Chimney, painting the trail in flecks of gold and crimson. The view hadn’t changed since humans first walked the earth, and it never would. Leaning against a centuries-old maple, Archie fished a crumpled cigarette pack from his pocket, shook out a cigarette, and yawned. He held out a hand to the man beside him. “Got a light?”
“How about lighting it with a kiss?” Maxie teased with a soft chuckle, his fingers grazing the fur of a dozing Camerupt nearby. “Go help him out,” he said gently.
The shaggy camel Pokémon let out a low rumble, obediently puffing a small flame from its back chimney to ignite the cigarette in the Team Aqua leader’s hand. The flickering sparks traced the mountain’s shadow.
“Thanks.” Archie took a long drag, blowing out a smoke ring. He tilted his head back, watching the wispy smoke drift skyward. His eyes didn’t meet Maxie’s, but his words seemed to pull him closer, like a desperate reach for a lifeline. “A game, huh? Even now, it’s hard to wrap my head around.”
Maxie shook his head, his garnet eyes distant. “I shouldn’t have told you. That was my mistake.”
“Why not?”
Silence. Maxie glanced at him, his look saying, You know why. Why make me say it?
“I need to hear it,” Archie said. For a split second, it looked like tears might come, but instead, a low laugh rumbled from his throat. “I want you to say it, Maxie. It’s not the same if I figure it out myself.”
“…Because you’ll forget. Telling you the truth changes nothing. The game resets you, and all you’ll know is what’s coming. You won’t even get a peaceful end—just pain as you vanish, leaving me to watch you and this world fall apart in the next loop. Arceus, sorry—”
Maxie cut himself off, his voice rising with emotion he could barely contain. He took a few deep breaths, fighting the daze of looping time. “Like I said, you’re better off not knowing.”
Then, out of nowhere, a warm, familiar embrace wrapped around him. Archie’s arms pulled Maxie close, their chests pressed together, heartbeats pounding in sync through their clothes. Like a child seeking comfort, Archie leaned in and whispered in his ear, “They think me as code. But what do you think?”
“You’re my best friend. I want to save you. And…” Maxie locked eyes with those sea-blue depths that always pulled him under, no matter how many times he saw them. He knew what he needed to say—it was a truth he’d never tire to tell.
“I love you. You’re the one I love most.”
A rush of code flooded Maxie’s mind, yanking him from his memories. The world pieced itself back together, as if some higher power wanted to keep the game running. He waited calmly to be dragged to his coded destination, but the faded memories now burned clear as day.
He’d promised Archie he’d save him, that he’d break their fates free from the game.
So this time, Maxie fought with everything he had, tearing away from the force pulling him forward and running the other way. With every step, red error warnings flashed, threatening that if he kept going, he’d become a glitch himself.
I don't care. Maxie had seen the world shatter and reform too many times, and he knew the meaning behind every chaotic pixel. He pushed through the flood of data, brushing off the black bug alerts and question marks swarming him. None of it mattered now. Guided by memory, he reached for a streak of blue in the jumbled, colorful lines—the blue of an ocean under a clear sky, the deep hue that painted his mind’s blank canvas with every kiss.
As his coded body began to break apart, his movements softened, lighter than brushing dust from a shelf. Maxie gently merged himself with that blue data. In the final moment before darkness swallowed him, he saw stars twinkling above, meteors streaking brilliantly across the sky, frozen in an eternal instant.
“What’d you wish for?” Under a starry sky, a fifteen-year-old Archie asked.
“Same as you,” Maxie replied, sharing a grin. They both knew the wish—it was written in the sand on beaches and carved into the cliffs they’d climbed together:
Archie and Maxie would be best friends forever.
If the world’s was set, and we were just data serving a game, were our memories fake? Were the heartbeats in our embraces an illusion? At least, when Maxie thought back, nothing felt more real.
When Pokémon Omega Ruby spat out a string of error warnings, the player pulled the cartridge and never put it back. They might’ve tossed it in a drawer, forgotten, or thrown it in the recycling, letting it fade into a new cycle.
But we have to believe that, even if the cartridge’s plastic and metal would one day rot away, the two characters, finally free from the game’s script, were happy in that moment.