In the haze of the dream world. Leaping from endless cloud to endless cloud. A place between our world, where darkness rules and visitors pay the toll for passing. Was this death? with the lights out, it's less dangerous. Here we are now, entertain us. I feel stupid, and contagious, here we are now, entertain us. Hello hello hello...

"Hello, Conrad." A voice without image. A projection of himself floating in his own consciousness as the needle pierced his skin. A prisoner of his own mind, trapped in a state between life and death, so was this limbo? An image appeared, the dark clouds parting to reveal a strange sight, it was a creature of fantasy, a wyrm-like monster with six shadowy tendrils emerging like wings from its back. A head capped like a centipede, with golden rings around its neck and spikes across its body and tail. What was this thing? A pokemon?

"Am I dead?" the question asked, unsure of where he was, nor what experience was this. But his answer never came as he suddenly found himself gasping for air as water filled his lungs. And the creature disappeared. He was naked, bathed in the fluids which had formed a hydrosphere around him. In panic for his life, his arms flailing about, eyes widened in shock as the last of his breath was fading with the bubbles. His subconscious consciousness fading as his eyes grew heavy. That is not dead which can eternal lie. And with strange aeons even death may die.

The needle had burst his aqueous prison, released from the womb and falling into the void with the gush of water. Born once more into the world. Waking slowly, breathing once more as he was lifted by invisible hands and carried into the world. The antidote running its course through his plumbing, venom neutralized by a cocktail of whatever it was they made these with. Those pokebiologists were usually good at surpassing the biologists in their study of pokemon. As such most poisons produced by pokemon were neutralized by one administration of an antidote through the circulatory system. Critical organ failure however, took more than an injection of antidote. Fortunately Conrad would recover, soon enough, despite the woozy feeling in his stomach.

But now as his eyes cracked open with a groan, he questioned if his dream had truly ended. For now there was an entourage of people among him, a houndoom, a porygon, and espeon, a guy in white coat and a girl. Was he captured? Why was the city dark? What was that? A screeching cry that split the sky, a peal of thunder, dark clouds like those of his dream casting their storms to strikes the tall buildings. A golden bird, no, a shinnying one, with wings jagged like the streaks of lighting across the sky. Behind it all types of Pokémon in pursuit.

"The Grid... Zapdos" Weakley uttered to the doc, "is houndour okay?" Consciousness faded once more. He felt his eyes grow heavy, his stomach churning its contents. And with the vomiting of his acids, Conrad returned to his dream world.