Ascender Ash: Sorry, didn't mean to offend. I just don't understand what glowing food does. Does it taste better?
Chef Ash: You've got it backwards. Food glows when it's been perfected. The glow is the result, not the cause. It means every ingredient has been pushed to its absolute limit.
He was torn. Angry that his life's work rated A instead of S. Pleased that A meant the ceiling was still above him.
The Chat Group catalogued abilities from every parallel-world Ash. Some talents earned S-rank through birth: Tokiwa Power, Aura Power.
Others earned it through sheer mastery, like Breeder Ash, whose accumulated knowledge and technique would qualify as S-rank if drawn as a single package. Chef Ash had hoped his cuisine sat at that level.
It didn't. Not yet.
His dishes could heal injuries, restore stamina, boost training efficiency, spike a specific stat for a short window, and in extreme cases, grant a Pokémon temporary access to a different typing. All through food. No moves, no items, no technology. Just cooking.
Glowing dishes were the peak of his ability. If those capped at A-rank, his overall score couldn't reach S. The gap between A and S was the gap between world-class and transcendent.
The sting faded fast. If A wasn't the ceiling, then the ceiling existed somewhere above him, waiting to be reached. He was young. He could climb.
Ascender Ash: So what does glowing food actually do?
Chef Ash: Short version. You push ingredient synergy to the maximum. When two Berries with different effects are combined at peak utilisation, there's a chance a third, fused effect emerges on top of the original two. How strong the buff is depends on the ingredient quality. Better ingredients, better results.
The mechanic was straightforward. Every Berry and Pokémon-beneficial ingredient contained hidden potency that standard cooking couldn't access.
An elite breeder or chef who extracted sixty percent of an ingredient's effect was considered exceptional. Chef Ash operated at ninety, sometimes pushing toward a hundred. Even he couldn't hit perfect extraction every time.
To reach S-rank, he estimated he'd need a hundred and twenty percent: drawing out more from an ingredient than the ingredient theoretically contained.
How to achieve that was a question for years of refinement, not a single conversation.
Ash filed the knowledge away. The A-rank Glowing Cuisine skill made him a better cook, and the food he produced would benefit both his Pokémon and himself in measurable, powerful ways. A practical reward with long-term compounding value.
Thirteen pulls. Three S-ranks, three A-ranks, five B-ranks, two C-ranks. Three months of accumulated achievements, cashed in at once. Future pulls would come slower, but the group estimated his theoretical lifetime total could exceed a hundred. He'd used roughly thirty. Seventy remained, scattered across milestones he hadn't reached yet.
The veterans knew the earning criteria. They wouldn't share. Discovery was part of the system's design, and Ash respected that enough not to push.
Ascender Ash: Heading out. Thanks for everything.
Champion Ash: Go. Process what you gained today. You'll feel the jump soon. And I'm looking forward to the day you walk the path of the Masters Eight.
The group held high expectations for this Ash. Not because he was strong now, though he was. Because he was a blank canvas that every member of the group had contributed to, and the picture taking shape was unlike anything any single parallel world had produced.
Each Ash in the Chat Group stood at the pinnacle of one field. Champion Ash in battle strategy. Breeder Ash in Pokémon cultivation. Chef Ash in cuisine. Scientist Ash in technology.
Each had mastered their domain and hit the walls of their own specialisation. Expanding into a second field was possible but required as much time and effort as the first. A lifetime wasn't enough to master everything.
The newcomer was different. He was young, unformed, and absorbing knowledge from every member simultaneously. With his talent and his luck, the trajectory pointed toward something no other Ash had achieved: competence at the highest level across every discipline. Not just a Champion. Not just a Breeder or a Chef or a Scientist. All of it.
The only Ash in the multiverse who might earn the title "all-powerful."
And the only one who might challenge Arceus.
That goal still hung beyond the reach of even Champion Ash and Legendary Ash. Both had fought the Creator God. Both had assembled their strongest teams, six against one, and attacked with everything they had.
The result was absolute. Zero damage dealt. Complete defeat. Arceus hadn't even been cruel about it. It was righteous by nature, and it had let them walk away unharmed. Only their confidence had been destroyed.
Arceus's power operated on a principle that rendered conventional combat meaningless: total attribute nullification.
Every type, every element, every energy-based attack passed through it like light through glass. Strength didn't matter. Strategy didn't matter. You could hit harder than anything in existence and the number would still read zero.
Two words summarised every account of fighting Arceus: can't win.
But Arceus wasn't invincible. After the battle, it had given them one piece of information. To defeat it, they needed to gather eighteen specific items. What those items were, Arceus hadn't said. Finding them would require searching every corner of every world.
For now, Champion Ash and Legendary Ash were traveling together, searching for those eighteen items. They had no idea what any of them looked like, but each one carried Arceus's aura, and once they found the first, it should lead them to the other seventeen.
When that would happen was anyone's guess. Still, they were young and had time to spare.
They wanted Newbie Ash to grow up fast, hoping that his outrageous luck and unsettling destiny would help him track down the prop items sooner rather than later.
Ascender Ash: Don't worry, I'll make the Eight Masters preliminaries for sure. This season I'm taking the Champion title. Can't let you veterans down!
Legendary Ash: Hurry up, rookie. We're waiting on you to complete the Arceus-challenge trio!
Ash never saw the message. He had already left the Chat Group.
Outside, he received the data on the three S-rank abilities.
The effect of Breakthrough Limit II was straightforward: let Pikachu push past its current ceiling one more time. For now, though, it couldn't be used. The veterans in the group had warned that Pikachu would need to reach Elite Four Level before it could fully draw out that kind of power.
The further you pushed the First-Cycle limit now, the closer you stood to the world's summit later. So Breakthrough Limit II would have to wait.
Next was the Jade Orb, Guide. As the veterans had described, it would steer him toward the Orb through a chance encounter, much like the day he had stumbled upon Ralts.
Finally, there was Light of Hope.
The single line of information attached to this S-rank reward read: no matter when, never give up hope; the light of hope will guide you to victory.
Ash stared at it.
He had no idea what to make of it. Too vague, too abstract, like something you could see from a distance but never actually reach. And unlike the earlier passive encounter rewards, this one had to be used on a Pokémon, with no clear indication of what it would actually do.
An S-rank reward can't be useless, he reasoned. He targeted Pikachu and used it. A flicker of light vanished from the back of his mind.
He watched a faint gleam sink into the sleeping Pikachu. It lasted only an instant. Without his sharp perception he would have missed it entirely.
After the light merged, Pikachu scratched its cheek, rolled over, and kept snoring.
Ash stared.
Looked like it did absolutely nothing. Fine. Whenever it was needed, it would probably show up.
Going by the description, it might only trigger in a genuine crisis, some situation with no way out. But he wasn't about to count on something that vague.
If he and Mewtwo ever faced something they couldn't handle together, he seriously doubted a "light of hope" was going to be what saved them.
Both of them were operating at Divine Level power. What could possibly back beings like them into a corner in the first place?
He finished sorting through the rewards, rolled over, and fell asleep.
Had he thought to use the Eye of Insight on Pikachu at that moment, he would have seen the species name had changed.
Species: Pikachu (Miracle Form)
The next morning, Misty sat up with heavy eyes. Beside her, Togepi was still curled up and sound asleep. She looked at the clock.
8:30.
She was on her feet instantly.
They were supposed to leave that morning for the Orange Islands, stopping by Professor Oak's lab first to pick up a Poké Ball called the GS Ball, then flying from Viridian City to Valencia Island in the Orange Archipelago to find a researcher. The airship departs at 11:20. They needed to move.
But when she climbed down and looked up at Ash's bunk, his blanket was already folded neatly in place.
He was gone. When had he left? How had she not heard a thing?