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Chapter 2: New goals

  Seeing that Mr. Krabs didn't understand me, I began to tell him in more detail how I was reborn. I left out some things, like that I came from a world where Pokemon was just a franchise of games and entertainment products. That was an act of mercy, I didn't want to give so many existential doubts to a poor Corphish, and I didn't hold anything back apart from that.

  It wasn't easy to convince the red lobster to believe my bizarre story, but I think I succeeded.

  “Let me see if I understand correctly,” the crustacean began, doubting, I don't know whether my sanity or his own. “You're telling me that, until not long ago, you were a human…”

  “Correct.”

  “And that, one night like any other one, while you were in your human house, you approached to something called ‘refrigerator’ and opened it to grab some human food before going to sleep in your human bed…”

  “Yup, yup,” I nodded, encouraging him to continue.

  “But then, a definitely-not-human ring opened beneath your feet, teleporting you away and dropping you from the clouds onto this beach. Then, you awakened, transformed into a Sandygast… right next to your own corpse.”

  “Exactly! It almost doesn't seem like I just told you this!” I excimed, using sarcasm to hide my fear of rejection. “So… do you believe me?”

  With a resolve I couldn’t see at the time, he said, “I believe you.”

  “I'd understand if you didn't believe me, my story is a bit... wait. Do you really believe me?”

  “Of course,” Mr. Krabs nodded, sitting back down on the sand with a small sigh of satisfaction, btantly ignoring the pile of bones beside me. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  Okay, maybe convincing him was a little easier than I initially thought it would be. Too easy, in fact. I was prepared for a long discussion about the veracity of my background, so his instant acceptance caught me off guard.

  “Uh, isn’t this feel like the falsest and far-fetched thing you’ve ever heard in your life?” I asked, trying to discredit myself as the colossal idiot I was. “How can you be sure my story is true? How do you know I didn’t just make it up for… some reason?”

  “That’s a lot of questions at once, young dy.” He pointed with his cw, half ughing. “But I think they can all be answered with a simple ‘you don’t seem to be lying’.”

  “And… that’s all you need?” I asked again, not quite believing that Mr. Krabs was so gullible. “Weren’t you super convinced that I was a trained pokemon? Where does all this fit in with that? Where does what you know about humans fit into this?”

  “Sandy, I’ve been on this beach my whole life,” he said, stopping my growing paranoia. “The closest thing I’ve ever seen to a human was a strange, very realistic picture drawn on a piece of paper in a bottle, and I only know it was of a human because a Wingull told me so. I have no idea of ??their habits beyond what I’ve been told, so if you’re telling me that they keep their food in a cold box instead of under the sand, I can only accept my ignorance and move on.”

  “So that's why…” I muttered, calming myself down.

  For a moment I had forgotten that I was talking to a Corphish of all things, it was normal that he had different notions about what is considered normal.

  “Exactly, so rex. You almost seem more upset than I did when you dug up a corpse in my face,” he said, snapping his cws at the pile of bones and letting out his (I’m going to assume) characteristic hearty ugh. “What are you going to do now, anyway?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked back, curious to know what the wise crustacean was referring to. “I already told you; I'm going to get stronger, evolve, get off this isnd and explore the world.”

  “Yes, yes, you’ve already told me what you want to do, but I wonder how exactly you’re going to do it,” Mr. Krabs inquired. “The Wingull who told me about your species didn’t describe it as very ‘mobile’, to be honest. Beach Nightmares seem even more static than Sandygast, so I don’t see how evolving would help you with your ultimate goals.”

  “That’s… true. I hadn’t stopped to think about it…” I muttered thoughtfully, spinning my toy shovel over my head. “The truth is; I didn’t want to think about it either… It's a bit difficult to accept that you've become a Pokemon from one day to the next, you know? Following my instincts to get stronger and evolve seemed like the best option at the time… though maybe I was wrong again.”

  After I finished my little speech with a somewhat crooked smile, a heavy but comfortable silence settled between Mr. Krabs and me. We both had some things to think about, it seemed.

  “I don’t think getting stronger is a bad thing,” he said after a while. “In this cruel world, strength is important and necessary. My brothers trust me because I’m strong. Wingull don’t try to attack us because I’m strong. I don’t try to expand my colony’s territory because the other Pokemon on the beach are strong. Arceus, we’re only having this conversation because you’re strong and you’ve defeated me!”

  “What are you trying to tell me?” I raised a sandy eyebrow.

  “That I don't think the first steps of your pn are wrong, you just need to refine the details. Don't rush to evolve, decide first you pn to carry out your objectives. You have time and you are intelligent, I'm sure you will find a solution to your problems.”

  “What if not? What if I can’t think of anything?” I asked, sinking my shovel into the sand that formed my body.

  “Well, then you become strong enough that nothing you worry about really matters,” he said with a smile, standing up and bsting the sand off of himself with a small Water Gun. “Anyway, Sandy, I’m afraid I have to end our talk here. It’s getting te and my brothers must be worried.”

  “Are you leaving already? I didn’t realize it had been so long,” I said, looking out to sea and seeing that the sun was about to set, with some bubbles on the beach reflecting the sunset. “Will you be back tomorrow?”

  “Of course. We still have to figure out what to do about your… strange way of eating,” he replied, pointing his cw at my shovel. “I also have to discuss it with my brothers, I'll probably bring them over tomorrow to clear things up.”

  “So, see you tomorrow, Mr. Krabs.” I said goodbye with a mocking ugh.

  “That nickname again? Anyway, see you tomorrow, Sandy,” he said, letting out his own ugh as he walked away into the distance.

  And just like that, Mr. Krabs came and went. I never saw him again… Nah, lie. The next day he came back with his whole family and a couple of Wingulls, one of which looked rather embarrassed, but that's a story for a little ter.

  That night was very useful for getting my thoughts in order, especially since I didn't need much sleep. Preventing myself from returning to my sand pile form and absorbing the vital energy of the environment until the sun came up, I sank into a different meditative trance.

  What Mr. Krabs said was true, at least the part about not needing to rush to evolve and pn better how to achieve my goals. The part about me being intelligent… was debatable, but the truth was that I had all the time in the world to compensate my literal ck of brain.

  I wasn't sure if I was immortal, but it seemed pretty likely. As long as I had energy left, I didn't see how I could even die again. My body was 100% sand, nothing that made me up could degrade, and if I lost a part of my sand, it would be easy to repce with sand from the beach.

  The only thing in my possession that was subject to the pas of time was my shovel toy, and it was not irrepceable either. In fact, I increasingly doubted that this was a mundane object, since it had appeared out of nowhere when I became Sandygast, on the beach of a desert isnd with no trace of humans…

  Its nature was also puzzling, as on the surface it was a simple toy paddle, but in practice it functioned more as a wand to channel my energy than anything else. My instincts told me that losing it wouldn't be fatal, but I would be severely weakened until I found or formed another one.

  Yeah, I guess I'm a wizard, Sandy.

  Refocusing, I gnced at the pile of bones beside me, with a pn beginning to form in my mind.

  These weren't part of my actual body, so losing them wouldn't affect me at all, but a part of me wanted to hold on to them. I wasn't sure if it was because of my remaining humanity or something else, but I was sure that losing them would be even worse than losing my shovel.

  I had to protect them.

  If I wrapped myself around the bones, like a slime devouring a skeleton, I could use my sand as armor to prevent anything from happening to them. I could also rely on them to increase my mobility, using the bones as the skeleton they were to get out of this Arceusforsaken isnd. I could even pass myself off as a human when I returned to civilization... but I was still far from being able to do all that.

  My control with the sand was decent, but I didn't have the level of precision needed to emute the smooth movements of an organic body. Maybe with enough practice I could get there someday...

  It was worth a try.

  Molding the sand that formed my body, I wrapped it around my polished, shiny bones, using my meager knowledge of human biology to emute the muscles and tendons needed to move them, or at least try. I was almost successful, but the concentration needed to even move my hand was greater than I had imagined.

  I was cking a lot of control and raw power if I wanted to pull off this pn, but it was possible. Looks like Mr. Krabs was right again after all. Having power is useful.

  Returning to my normal Pokemon form, I buried my bones back under the sand and began to think about the details. The idea was feasible, I just had to train enough to carry it out. Evolving was tempting, the increase in mass and strength would make it much easier for me to achieve this new goal, but it was a double-edged sword.

  Palossand were almost static, and seemed much less malleable than Sandygast. Evolve could either bring me closer to my goal or take me away from it forever. It was like flipping a coin and leaving my destiny to chance. It was like choosing an easy path, but one with high risk if I was wrong.

  Evolution was not a good option.

  With that out of the way, I was left with the good old way of improving through training. However, evolving wasn't the only way to get stronger. Even a level 100 Magikarp could beat the crap out of a level 20 Gyarados. I shouldn't underestimate the gradual increase in power, no matter how slow it was.

  With a visible and attainable goal, my mood improved greatly. I was already in a good mood after my long talk with Mr. Krabs, and finding a way to fulfill my dreams rekindled the fme that was beginning to fade.

  Not wanting to waste any time, I began a small exercise routine to improve my control over ‘ground-type energy’, though perhaps I should call it ‘ground-type aura’. I had never been one to go to the gym in my old life, at least I couldn’t remember doing so, but I’d always fantasized about what it would be train a Pokemon in a world that was not restricted by rigid numbers.

  Who would have thought that those wasted hours would come in handy one day?

  Forming a small loop of sand, I focused on its rotation speed, slowly increasing it. I also tried to shape its size, making it as small as possible without losing integrity. The density was harder to control, as it depended on the terrain, but I found that, using a bit of this magical energy that was the aura, I could form grains of sand at will.

  The aura was very curious. The moves were the easiest way to use it, being almost instinctive and learning some of them naturally the stronger I got, but it wasn't too difficult to modify some of its effects with the right intention. That made them much more versatile than I initially expected.

  Things like controlling my own body or moving the surrounding sand also made use of aura, but most of them weren't as efficient as the moves themselves, and I doubted they could reach their full potential without consolidating into one named-move. In fact, perhaps that's how the moves came about in the first pce, with Pokemon maniputing their own type of aura with a specific intention...

  An interesting theory. It deserved some in-depth thinking ter, but at the moment I was too busy getting gains to care.

  The night passed quickly as I trained, progressing slowly. When I got bored of practicing with Sand Tomb, I moved on to Sand Attack, perfecting it until it resembled more the waves of the ocean than the pitiful spsh it was at first. When compressed, it formed something so close to Mud Sp that it might as well be one, retaining its blinding effects, but adding some damage to the move.

  When I felt my control had improved enough, I dug up one arm of my skeleton and practiced molding myself around it, getting used to the feel, though I didn't get much results at first. I was still missing something, and in a stroke of genius, I tried using Harden to emute skin, which worked far better than I could have ever hoped.

  Normal-type energy formed a surface yer on the sand that enveloped the bones of my former arm, adding some much needed consistency in my attempts to move it. The move held my crude imitations of muscles and tendons firmly in pce, greatly lightening my mental load and allowing me much finer control of my arm.

  I still moved it like a snail with spasms, but it was still progress, and any gain was appreciated.

  Overall, it was a very productive night and I ended up nearly exhausted, but I wasn't too worried about running out of energy. If the negotiations with the Corphish went well, I doubted I'd have to care about the ck of energy ever again, so I gave everything I had in my super-special-training.

  My aura-well wasn't very big, but after my epic fight it grew several times, enough to allow me to train tirelessly until the sun rose over the horizon, filtering through the leaves of the trees surrounding the beach. Along with the rays of sunshine, as we had agreed, the colony of Corphish made an appearance, accompanied by a pair of Wingull.

  When they got close enough to see me, some of them got scared, others got angry, a few backed away expectantly, and Mr. Krabs, for some reason, came closer in concern.

  Ignoring his brothers' attempts to stop him, the big red crustacean stood before me and said, “Sandy! Are you okay? You look horrible.”

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