Pokemon: A different Ash

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Iron Tail struck Raichu, sending it tumbling backward. As the smoke cleared, Gastly's figure reappeared, momentarily disoriented but quickly regaining its composure.

Having existed for thousands of years, Gastly had seen the natural order play out countless times. To it, evolved Pokémon were always superior to their unevolved forms, and unevolved Pokémon typically feared their evolved counterparts. But how could it have predicted that Ash's Pikachu, of all things, would defy that rule and face Raichu without hesitation?

"Not afraid of Raichu, are you? Let's see how you handle this, then!" Gastly sneered. A swirl of smoke enveloped it again, and when the haze cleared, it hadn't transformed into another Pokémon. Instead, it had become a massive mousetrap, its menacing jaws lined with ten sharp clips, forming a number "740" in an eerie display.

"Pika...Pika?" Pikachu hesitated briefly. It had always faced Pokémon opponents, but this was something entirely different.

Ash's eyes narrowed as he covered his right eye, focusing intently with his left. Through his heightened concentration, the mousetrap's illusory form faded, revealing Gastly within. 

"Pikachu, don't be afraid! It's just an illusion! Use Electro Ball!" Ash commanded firmly.

Pikachu's resolve strengthened at Ash's words. It charged its attack and hurled a crackling Electro Ball at the apparition.

Boom! 

Smoke erupted as the attack landed, forcing Gastly to revert to its original form. It dodged Pikachu's follow-up strike effortlessly but refrained from counterattacking. Ash, observing this, chose not to press the offensive either.

"You've got a keen eye to see through my illusions," Gastly admitted, its voice tinged with respect.

Ash let out a small sigh of relief, lowering his hand. The strain of focusing so intently was starting to wear on him.

Gastly's illusions weren't simple parlor tricks—they were backed by centuries of experience. Unlike Ditto, which physically transformed, Gastly's abilities relied on creating vivid hallucinations. Despite its mastery of illusions, it retained its ability to speak fluently, no doubt a skill it had honed over its long existence.

Though the objects Gastly created were illusions, its Hypnosis was very real—and dangerously potent. Unlike a standard Hypnosis move, which typically put Pokémon to sleep during battles to leave them vulnerable, Gastly's version was far more insidious. Its immense psychic power didn't just affect one target—it could influence the brainwaves of everyone around it. In essence, it drew others into a shared dreamscape of its own creation, allowing it to manipulate their perception freely.

This ability explained its versatility in creating illusions. With such overwhelming psychic control, it could manifest anything it desired within the minds of its targets. 

"I see now," Ash thought, his weariness evident. "It's all in our heads—an illusion powered by its Hypnosis. We've all been caught in its dream world."

Misty, trying to piece things together, turned to Gastly with a look of confusion. "Illusion? Then what are you trying to do? And why did you target Brock?" she demanded, her voice filled with both curiosity and suspicion as she glared at the spectral Pokémon.

"Don't worry, little girl, I won't hurt him," Gastly assured Misty in a calm, ethereal tone. It floated gently, showing no intention of continuing the battle.

"Then why did you take Brock?" Misty asked, still puzzled.

"Have you heard of the legend of Maiden's Peak?" Gastly replied, drifting downward as if recounting a long-forgotten tale.

"Maiden's Peak legend?" Misty repeated, tilting her head. It was her first time in the area, and the name didn't ring any bells.

"I've heard bits and pieces," Ash admitted, his expression thoughtful. He had a vague idea that Gastly was tied to the story in question.

"The reason this place is called Maiden's Peak," Gastly began, its voice carrying an air of melancholy, "is because long ago, a woman lived here whose husband went off to sea to fight in a war. He never returned. The woman waited and waited for him, but no matter how long she waited, he did not come back. Eventually, she turned to stone, still waiting for his return."

Misty and Brock listened intently as Gastly spun its tale. Tears welled up in Misty's eyes, and she wiped them away as she imagined the heartbreak of the woman who waited for eternity.

"A woman? Could it be the woman I saw?" Brock asked, suddenly alert. The memory sent a shiver down his spine. He realized that Gastly's Hypnosis had been lifted, and he was now fully himself again. The thought of having possibly encountered a ghost made him uneasy.

"The one you saw was me," Gastly admitted, floating closer to Brock.

"Oh…" Brock exhaled, relieved. Even though Gastly was a Ghost-type Pokémon, it was far less unsettling than the alternative.

"But why would you do something like that?" Misty asked after composing herself.

"I'm helping that woman," Ash interjected. He leaned casually against a tree, arms crossed, his tone steady.

"Helping her?" Brock muttered, his hairs standing on end once more. "Does that mean her ghost actually exists?"

"Indeed," Gastly confirmed with a nod. "Young man, your eyes seem to see more than most. I'm impressed." It studied Ash curiously, intrigued by his unique abilities. In all its centuries of existence, Gastly had never encountered a human quite like him.

Ash remained silent, unsure of how to explain the bond powers he had recently begun to understand. He had known they connected him to Pokémon, but he hadn't realized they also allowed him to detect illusions.

"I come here once a year," Gastly continued. "Every year, during the temple fair, when the area is filled with people, I search for men with weaker minds and weave illusions for them."

Hearing this, Ash and Misty exchanged amused glances before turning to Brock with smirks. "Weaker minds, huh?" Ash teased.

"Uh...haha!" Brock stammered, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. Of course, Gastly had been referring to him.

"But why go through all that trouble?" Misty asked, still unsure of Gastly's intentions. "What's your real purpose?"

"It's to make people remember the legend!" Gastly declared passionately, glancing toward the darkening sky. "If people forget her story, her waiting will have been for nothing."