DISCLAIMER: This post delves into MAJOR spoilers! If you’d rather play this hack completely blind, I strongly suggest you read most of this after you’ve finished. Here’s a link to the forum post where you can download the patch.

Have you ever wondered what it’d feel like if you found something that shouldn’t exist?

Imagine it’s 2004 and you’re cuddled up under the blankets playing your brand new copy of Pokémon FireRed or LeafGreen. There’s nothing but you, the worm light lighting up your GBA’s screen, and the faint echoes of a TV being watched by the very parents you hope won’t find out you’re still awake. You boot up the game, eager to revisit the first generation that you watched your older sibling play years ago, and as you exit your house in Pallet Town for the first time… you notice something strange. It’s nothing major, but your bygone, clouded memories scream in defiance at its existence. A feeling of dread creeps into your chest. This shouldn’t be here. You know it shouldn’t. Shouldn’t everything be the same as what little you can remember?

There’s a new rock by the water.

ROM hacks aren’t something I usually play nowadays, but I used to be absolutely obsessed with them when I was younger. Pokémon Ruby Destiny, Dark Violet, Glazed—I played an absolute boatload. There was just something so enchanting about experiencing all-new stories, experiences, and worlds through ROM hacks; they felt real when I was that young, no matter how simple or grandiose the form. I even made my own terrible attempts at hacks during those long, oppressively humid summers during middle school, when it felt like all I could do was sit inside and browse the internet. Here’s a—and I mention this very, very begrudgingly—classic example.

Yeah. Can’t say I was a savant at 12, but the honest-to-god passion was there. ROM hacking was, and still is, a unique form of storytelling, created by modifying the very structure of a core memory and molding it into one’s vision. Even when I grew older and moved on to different interests, their spot in my heart has remained.

And as I think about them more, I realize how ROM hacking has served as both an avenue for intrigue and a means of bringing the mysteries of the past to life. Those old rumors and hoaxes like Mew under the truck, Pikablu, the PokéGods—all of these have been propagated in some form by hacks that intend to pass fiction off as reality, regardless of their believability. Hoax and hack exist in a sort of parallel, with each inciting a sense of childlike wonder that there’s always more to discover in your favorite games.

So, early last month, when one of my friends randomly sent me a link to a YouTube video of a hack that seemed almost desperate to be played, my attention was immediately ensnared. Its title was written in all caps, the thumbnail emblazoned with the words “THERE IS A NEW ROCK BY THE WATER”, and its contents were what I can only describe as a foreboding facade for something much more sinister. Being an absolute sucker for anything with even a slightly creepy atmosphere, I dove in with the assumption that the hack would be a typical creepypasta centering around the urgently mentioned rock under the guise of a normal Fire Red/Leaf Green ROM that included some extra ways to catch hard-to-obtain Pokémon. Sounds sort of like a new take on those classic rumors, right?

Except this wasn’t your run-of-the-mill creepypasta hack the likes of Hypno’s Lullaby or Lost Silver (no offense to either; both are pioneering works in the genre!); it’s a haunting, esoteric experience the likes of which I’ve never seen in a ROM hack, and one that I’ll likely be unable to forget. Buckle up, cause this is a long one!

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Since there’s a whole lot I’d like to share, I’m splitting this post into two distinct sections: my personal experience with the hack and my analysis of its themes. Below is a table of contents linking to both parts and their individual subsections, so if you’d rather read one or the other, you have the option!

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The Beginning

FRLG.ips‘ forum post presents itself not as a formal, organized summary of a hack with additional content, but instead as an ominously disorganized list. The tone of its forum post is oddly erratic, almost beckoning, as if it wished to hook me. The only piece of information on the page that can even be considered “straightforward” is the cipher that lines the tops and bottoms of a seemingly random assortment of unremarkable images. So, heeding the call, I plugged the cipher into a decoder and was led to… something that I can’t say that I expected?

An early-2000s-inspired webpage filled with an assortment of rudimentary, young-teen-crafted pages? I won’t lie, it was definitely charming enough to make me want to delve deeper. A good number of the page links don’t work; all of them seem to lead to the same pitch-black error page with a secret message that can only be viewed by highlighting the darkness:

That’s totally not creepy as hell. It looks like there are quite a few voids that’ve been left since the last time this site was active. But to make explicit that “It, too, is forgotten”? Could something have happened to its owner? The “About Me” page seems to have suffered the same fate…

Well, it was obvious that “Abby’s Pokemon Aquarium” wasn’t a typical adolescent fan site, but it really, really tries to be one. Each of the working links led to a collection of pages featuring custom Pokémon teams made with low-res PNGs and a laundry list of rumors and secrets, ranging from facts (like how to find the Regis) to pure fiction. It was like a time capsule of the Poké-geist that existed before the internet had become the all-encompassing communication powerhouse it is today, and I found myself pointing at my screen like that one Leonardo DiCaprio GIF every time I read a rumor or tidbit I vaguely remembered. The MS Paint-esque background, the terrible formatting, the clear evidence of link rot—the charm of an old, forgotten website will always remain endearing to me, and reading through Abby’s site made me all the more curious about what lay ahead.

There’s a lot of cute content throughout the site that I definitely recommend checking out, even before playing. Abby genuinely feels like a real kid who could’ve existed back during the gap between Gold/Silver/Crystal and Ruby/Sapphire’s releases, one who really, really believes every little rumor she’s heard.

But out of all the hearsay, I definitely don’t remember ever hearing about this.

WARNING! This next section contains major spoilers. If you wish to play the hack fully blind, come back later! My thoughts can wait forever, y’know!

Uncharted Waters

Hey, so, uh, should I talk about the game now? Good thing the website and hack work in tandem; otherwise, I fear I’d ramble on and on about the former…

I’ve seen a good number of people who come across this hack dive straight into the game itself without actually digging into the forum post’s contents. To be fair to the hack, the post really lays it bare that there’s a mystery to be solved through its showy image gallery, but if you don’t happen upon it through either the post or the YouTube video, you will 100% end up playing through vanilla FRLG with only a few noticeable changes (albeit cool ones! The game is not lying about being able to obtain legendaries more easily). The rock you come upon outside your home in Pallet Town will remain just that—a rock. But if you choose to dive directly into the “FINDING IN POKEMON FIRERED AND LEAFGREEN” entry, you’ll discover a complex set of instructions that reads less like some random internet hoax and more like an evocation.

The guide starts with Abby claiming that the glitch only works “if you play it exactly right,” suggesting there’s little room for error. There’s also a mention of using Gameshark codes to ensure the rock appears as an indicator that the game is “activated”. Well… the rock’s there whether you use codes or not; in addition, the link that supposedly contained the codes is also dead. It seems like this first step is a practical allusion to the act of having modified the game through the patch—or “payload”—you have to apply. It was a subtle warning that, to access whatever secret there is to find, you’re going to have to proceed with intent.

As I began following the subsequent instructions, I initially felt a tinge of annoyance at how hyper-specific they were. I knew they were written as a nod to the tedium that plagued old internet rumors about hard-to-find secrets—Abby’s childlike writing definitely fit the part really well—but Kanto wasn’t (and still isn’t) exactly my cup of tea. After obtaining my starter—a Blastoise—I had to endure a tedious stretch where I had to grind levels and fight a ton of trainers in a specific order, which wasn’t really that fun. But that’s the point, isn’t it? I had to play everything exactly right. If I wanted to find the secret and satisfy my curiosity, I had to forgo my definition of “fun” and trudge onward.

And after a whole lot of grinding and instruction-following, I started to wonder when anything particularly creepy would happen. The game had been nothing but normal up to this point, which tensed me up in anticipation of the moment the ball would drop. You can imagine the bewilderment on my face when finally I entered the depths of Mt. Moon, made my way through most of its tunnels, and encountered this:

The dark figure doesn’t speak; it only provides. A Lucky Egg was my reward, and it was the first real indicator that something anomalous is occurring. There was a tinge of dread in my mind as I pushed onward, fighting more and more trainers and leveling up my starter as per her guidance. Fighting felt trivial at this point, like each trainer was simply an obstacle as I powered toward the tip of Route 25 just north of Cerulean City. I’d been playing too long to be fazed by the sinister, stripped-down evolution jingle or the fact that I never formally received any of the gym badges I’d been tasked to collect (Seriously, there is no jingle or message like normal). So once I reached the patch of flowers adjacent to Bill’s house and the world grew still, I’d already become so enamored with the prospect of discovery that I wasn’t really paying attention to anything that I was doing. I’d become tunnel-visioned, but would that be my undoing, or would it lead to something really cool?

You could call the Garden the game’s first warning. Any subtle hints the game gives before this point weren’t quite strong enough to quell my budding curiosity, and this area only heightened it. It’s one of those places that you fantasized was real as a kid while running around a Pokémon region, secretly hoping you’d somehow stumble across something nobody had ever seen before. Abby’s description of it is simple: “boundless and beautiful.” It loops over and over and over as if it were an eternal paradise, or maybe purgatory? I wandered around for a bit in search of my next goal, listening to its gentle melody, and then—

The world grew still once more. The anomaly paced around the clearing impatiently, longing for someone to discover it.

I engaged in battle with what looks like an amalgamation of Missingno, Pikablu, and Blastoise all in one, and I could do nothing but defeat it. Its downing generates great excitement within the abstract being, at which point it gifted me the Soul Badge, cryptically and cheerily musing about the “great expectations we have for you”. As confusing as this sounded, one thing was clear: I was the “hand” guiding my avatar, Red, into whatever chaos lay ahead.

After an encounter with a being that made me unsure whether or not it should even exist, it felt odd to be jettisoned back out into the “real world” through the door of Bill’s house. In that moment, I realized how the sense of normalcy the game uses as a veil for its underlying conflict felt oddly compelling. I mean, how was I supposed to continue playing somewhat normally after… that?

At this point, Abby’s instructions became further laden with esoteric detail. I then had to venture—while extremely underleveled—into Cerulean Cave in search of Mewtwo, who didn’t even end up being there! Instead, an “8F” was there to collect, a clear reference to a glitched item used by arbitrary code executors in the original Red and Blue games to practically bend the world’s reality to their will. It was really neat how this hack continued to breathe new life into each rumor and oddity that it utilized; the 8F eventually turns into the Mist Stone (accompanied by an ominous noise) once you reach the S.S. Anne, which is another rumored item that was said to evolve any Pokémon without fail.

Once exposed to the Mist Stone, my Blastoise’s figure became drenched in a disgusting violet hue, transforming its body into a sinister-looking shadow of its former self. Everything about it just screamed wrong; it definitely felt like this was supposed to be a play on a secret, rumored evolution, but it obviously was meant to make me feel like I shouldn’t have used that stone. What exactly was I tapping into? What kind of power was I attempting to harness? All I could do was press onward.

The scene with the normally competitive rival was paralyzing; it was the first time I witnessed both Red and an NPC react so viscerally to my actions. Blue notices Red’s strange silence and points out that he seems scared of… something. Once “Rainer” is sent into battle and uses Abyss, sending his poor Raticate into the depths with an OHKO, he cries out in anguish for me to get away from him like I’m a monster. There isn’t even a body for him to cradle. He dashes away, leaving me to wander the rest of the ship to test my new power.

The Abyssal Nodes

This is the point at which some NPCs start to show obvious signs of self-awareness. Once I finally had my fill and disembarked the ship—the atmosphere noticeably more dreary—a sailor flagged me down and commented on how stiff Red looked. If it wasn’t already obvious that he’d been reduced to my puppet, the Sailor further commented that he had a feeling that he’d been with some “bad company”. I wonder who! Very Sans-esque dialogue, huh? I got the feeling this wouldn’t be the last time I’d be seeing him.

Abby’s guide then directed me toward Lavender Town, which can only be accessed through the pitch-black Rock Tunnel to the north, as its western entrance seems to be blocked off for reasons unknown (for now). The guide makes a point to mention that I shouldn’t be tempted to catch any Pokémon that could learn Flash, so I instead had to look up an online map of the cave so that I wouldn’t wander around it like a lost puppy for another hour, which, strangely enough, made me feel like a kid again. I can vividly remember trying to navigate Dark Cave in the Gen 2 games without Flash, way back in the day, just to see how far I could make it… Hm.

… Oh. So that’s why the route to Lavender Town is blocked. I wasn’t supposed to do anything else here, at least for now, so to the south I went, the notion that I may be responsible for said funeral lingering in the back of my mind. As the guide mentions, all the trainers on this route failed to load, creating the sinister impression that they might’ve anticipated my arrival. Could the word have been spreading that I’m a threat? Or was it just another break in reality? Finally reaching the Snorlax that I could’ve removed with the Poke Flute if I’d just played the game normally, well… just take a look.

A blinding flash and a deep tremor. The Snorlax was gone as if it’d never existed. The narration and “level up” dialogue seemed to be inspired by Undertale’s genocide route, implying that the player’s actions steadily increase the power of an unseen, godlike force.

But… notice how whatever’s begun to level up has no name, just like the “name” of the secret I’m supposed to find. I began to wonder if maybe I’d already found it.

It was around here that I noticed something else seeping into place of Abby. Starting in Step 3, the instructions became specific enough that it seemed as if I were collecting artifacts for a ritual rather than progressing toward a tangible goal, and it was clear that something in her tone was more punctilious. Compared to her looser writing in the earlier parts of the guide and in her other miscellaneous entries, it felt odd to see her write so much more formally. Her innocence doesn’t completely vanish, but there are a few lines that a young girl would not write.

From this point onward, things escalated quickly and became much more esoteric. I’m going to get quite a bit more detailed from now on because there’s a boatload of events and lore that push the

Now that I’d harnessed the power of the Abyss, I was required to go to Fuschia City to perform a nearly identical sequence to the “Glitch City” glitch from Red/Blue/Yellow (or “Gen 1”, as I like to call it), with a slight detour to the Seafoam Islands in the middle to retrieve a single Water Stone. I had to challenge the city’s gym in the interim, which posed no challenge as usual. Koga didn’t seem to react to my ravaging of his team the way Blue did; in fact, none of the trainers I faced on my way there did. Strange…

The ominous noise from earlier blared in my ears after the sequence’s completion, now a blatant indicator that I’d done what was necessary, followed by another level-up message. I then completed the rock puzzle, which made the game freak out much like its Gen 1 parallel:

The screen fades to white, and I begin to warp around various locations, traversing them just outside their normal boundaries like a spectator. There were these strange, eye-like objects that only exclaimed when talked to… Could these be the “Abyssal Nodes” that Abby referenced? It felt like whatever force I’d been evoking was becoming much more eldritch in nature, imbuing me with the ability to break the boundaries of the game in adherence to its will.

Finding myself in a dark, stormy version of Saffron City, I explored as much as I could. Numerous nodes were stationed in front of the buildings, preventing my entry. In the city’s center, a node blocking Silph Co. began to speak, saying, “The ABYSS and the LAND. The SIGHT and the SOUND. All things have another half. As above, so below. As below, so above.”

A new page presented itself: a string of diary entries written by Abby from early to late June 2004. Interspersed between descriptions of her day-to-day activities and hype for the upcoming release of FireRed/LeafGreen, Abby chronicles how her brother—a webmaster himself named “kyleofwind”—and another friend who goes by “Chorusofthecursed” had gone down to the beach to hang out. Kyle and Chorus got into a big argument, which led Chorus to chuck her brother’s GBA into the ocean. Kyle dives into the ocean to retrieve it, and once he does, he discovers a strange algae growing where the battery pack used to be. The algae somehow powers the GBA for weeks, and when a chunk is removed by her marine biologist uncle for study, it mysteriously vanishes when nobody is looking. Abby even swears that she saw an eye in the algae in the middle of the night, which she cheerfully claims nobody believes.

After a while, Abby seems to grow ill. It’s not explicitly said how she gets sick, but it’s severe enough to cancel a family vacation to Japan she was looking forward to. She begins to have fever dreams in which she’s floating in a city at the bottom of the ocean, hearing a voice sing in an inhuman language, while her chest grows tighter. She seems concerned about keeping the algae alive, but only because it’s powering the GBA and she’d like to keep using it. She signs off, apparently exhausted with a “fried brain”, and hopes to update her audience ASAP.

This was a much-needed glimpse into Abby’s life and her connection with the hack’s overarching mystery. I was wondering why there was a water-themed thread running through everything that was happening, and it seems the corruption may have manifested as the strange algae’s influence seeped into the game. But where did it come from? There’s still so much left unknown, but to inch closer to the truth felt satisfying.

Now here’s the coolest part of this portion. I’ve never seen a ROM hack do anything like this before, and I want to give it props for being the first (that I’ve played) with this kind of immersive puzzle. Once I spoke with the aforementioned node, I was teleported into a pitch-black room, the sound of a person whispering a number that echoed through the darkness. Now, if you end up making it this far without consulting the guide (which I guess IS technically possible through sheer coincidence), you will have zero clue what to do here. But if you’re keen, you’ll notice certain words in Abby’s logs highlighted in green. These are the directions you must move in sequential order; with each number whispered, you must move that number of steps. I’ll admit that it took me a second to figure out what exactly was happening, but once I figured it out, I felt really smart even if the solution really wasn’t that complex. Props to the dev for creating a unique puzzle that utilizes elements outside of the hack itself!

Once I traversed the invisible path, a voice began alluding to what I assume is the Abyss itself. Whoever—or whatever—its king may be, perhaps it was the very being I’ve been searching for all this time.

I’m teleported to the S.S. Anne, now drenched in fog, seemingly lost within the Abyss. A log in the captain’s quarters seems to suggest this to be true; his writing details how the ship has been invaded by something that has been luring passengers into the basement. As he and his crew descend further into madness, he begins to slip into delirium, realizing they have been nowhere the whole time. They’ve always been nowhere.

The ship’s deck was the only place left to go. A glitched tile slowly made its way toward me and began a battle.

Its sprite looked very similar to a Gen 1 glitched ‘mon more than anything, and it can’t be drowned with Abyss. It immediately OHKO’s Rainer and mumbles about how it “isn’t time yet”, exchanging my Water Stone for another Mist Stone. This allows Rainer to evolve, or rather devolve, into a new, dilapidated form called “Millennium”.

Millennium has such great power that any obstacle, human or Pokémon, could no longer stand in its or my way. Abby’s guide directed me toward Cinnabar, which requires taking a detour through Cycling Road… without a bicycle. The receptionist absolutely wouldn’t let me through, but a voice from the depths beckons me to be rid of the limitations of flesh. I’m dead serious. That’s what it says. I’m totally invoking Cthulhu or something, aren’t I?

Reaching Celadon City, I tracked down the gym leader Erika, who seemed to be distraught over another gym leader—Sabrina—having fallen into some psychedelic coma. She expressed genuine concern for her, even sending her flowers through Nurse Joy, and great perplexion at Red’s demeanor. It seems as if he’s communicating with her in a way I’m either unable to understand or properly perceive. His language must have been off-putting, almost robotic in nature and tone, because it clearly creeped her the hell out enough to ask if he’s okay. I’m the only one who can answer.

Regardless of the answer, she comments on how strangely everyone has been acting and that she doesn’t feel completely grounded in reality. The Abyss’ influence has clearly become strong enough to begin warping the minds of this world’s denizens, and their reactions are becoming harder and harder to ignore. There were multiple moments before this interaction where characters would witness you popping back into reality and feeling as though their heads weren’t twisted on straight, and it’s safe to assume that the more I damage this plane, the worse they’ll deteriorate.

Erika then claims that when she stares off into space, she can see “them” crawling in the spaces between reality. The thought distresses her so much that she darts out of the gym and starts muttering to herself that I couldn’t be a normal trainer and that she isn’t “meant” to leave the gym. Was she… gaining awareness of her newfound freedom? Was this another consequence of fracturing this reality?

I’m forced to force her into battle, and after a swift couple of Abysses, she practically throws me the badge and vanishes. Now I could go to the Seafoam Islands… What could possibly await me there?

The Six

Finding Blaine was my next goal, but I did get a little sidetracked on the way there. The guide mentions that the Rainbow Badge you receive from Erika is key to progressing through the Seafoam Islands, so I took a little detour there and quickly reached an apparent dead end. I won’t go too in-depth about what I found there, but just know it’s going to be really important later on. It’s kinda funny how much you can happen upon down there.

It wasn’t quite clear where I was supposed to find Blaine, but since I was already close to Cinnabar and figured he couldn’t be far, I ended up stumbling upon him just south of Pallet Town.

Blaine paid no attention to Red at all, spewing a lengthy ramble about his fears of something beneath the waves that “they” took care of years ago, and how he’s particularly paranoid about the safety of Cinnabar. Whatever his team did to “It” should’ve taken care of it for good, he claimed—but what is “It”? Is “It” what Red and I are trying to find? He seems rightfully paranoid about our growing power, but simultaneously doesn’t seem to view us as a major threat.

If you’ve been paying attention to how this hack threads together glitches and hoaxes from Gen 1, you might have an idea of exactly what he’s talking about. Something that lurks beneath the waves of Cinnabar; something that was “taken care of” in the years since its last appearance; something that’s dangerous enough to threaten the stability of the entire world. I had a feeling I knew. It made perfect sense, but there was still lingering uncertainty in the air, like the hack was feeding me just enough info to infer.

Once Blaine noticed me eavesdropping, he scurried out of there pretty quickly. Maybe he finally went back to his gym…

Apparently not! The voice chimes in and tells me to ignore finding Blaine for now, citing that we’re working under “less-than-ideal circumstances”. This entity’s influence was clearly strengthening exponentially; it’s beginning to refer to both Red and me with “we” as if we’ve formed a pact. I guess I was only further sacrificing what little of my individuality remained by adhering to the instructions… This was getting more unsettling by the minute.

Very brief detour: I missed this during my playthrough, but my friend came across the email Blaine sent to Professor Oak on a computer in the latter’s lab. In it, Blaine urgently requests that Oak meet him in Vermilion City and bring his strongest Pokémon with him. He pleads with the professor to understand what he’s unintentionally done by allowing Red, the protagonist/avatar, to bring an invincible monster into the world and use it to conjure “It’s” presence. It’s another cool piece of lore that provides insight into each of their thought processes as the story progresses, even when they’re offscreen.

I was then tasked with finding six specific people: the Old Man in Viridian, Mr. Psychic, the Daycare Manager, the Name Rater, the Safari Zone guard, and Bill. All six people were/are focal points of several well-known glitches and rumors related to Gen 1, and my goal was to assimilate them into the Abyss. While I was searching for each (I definitely had to look up a few maps to find some), I had another crazy aha moment. Remember the image gallery in the forum post? A few of those images are stills of each of the Six’s locations; some of them even serve as critical hints (ex., you can’t use Abyss on the Safari Zone guard from in front of the counter. The image shows exactly where to walk out of bounds in order to sneak up on him from behind.) The hack’s ARG framework continued to entice me, and I found myself wondering what exactly the few images I didn’t find meaning in meant.

Each of the Six in order.

Before assimilating each of the Six, the voice enigmatically speaks of each’s significance with regard to their past use in glitches and rumors. These “old texts” were frequently mentioned with implicit respect, signaling that the unknown entity regards each highly and that each will prove useful to the Abyss. The Abyss seemed to feed off the power of these rumors, and to allow its influence to grow, I had to adhere. Again, really cool how this hack uses the power of these cornerstones of Pokémon’s internet culture, incorporating their elements as a driving force for its narrative.

After Bill—the final sacrifice—was claimed, I was teleported to the Pokémon Mansion in order to retrieve the Secret Key. Once I retrieved it like normal, I had to interact with a certain spot on the seam between Cinnabar and Route 20, right where that one old glitch could be—

I knew it! It’s Missingno! What a neat reveal: harnessing the power of every single glitch and rumor adjacent to it in Gen 1 and using them to will its influence back into being. It further proposes a question: How can something dead still speak? It asks for my opinion on whether I believe in the existence of more than one god, and when I answered yes, it claims that my opinion holds no significance; it claims that the beliefs of the collective shape their existences, and that this belief is the form, morphing over time as they are perceived. But what happens when a god loses its believers? Are they still a god? Are they still “alive?”

It commended my loyalty to straying from the normal path, giving me both the HM for Fly and the Thunder Badge that enabled the former’s use, then proposed a bargain: protections from the consequences of unleashing the Abyss in exchange for my continued assistance in allowing its emergence from the depths. I was not allowed to deny its request; once I accepted, the Secret Key was dropped into the depths and transformed into the “??? Key”. Reality slowly faded back in, Cinnabar’s cheery music juxtaposing the darkened skies.

Trying not to lose it, I consulted the guide and made my way over to the Game Corner.

Deeper and Deeper

Surprise! The Sailor’s back, and he seemed to want to get the jump on me by warning Giovanni (the boss) of my approach. He seems to acknowledge Red’s stoicism, but mistakenly believes that he could still hide his intentions.

He then attempts deterrence, going on a diatribe of different excuses as to why I shouldn’t be in the casino in the first place, like how addiction is bad and that “the house always wins”. It’s clear from his tone that he knows what kind of force we are, and he can tell that I have no intent on stopping. He gives one final warning, then leaves, leaving the Rocket Hideout primed for exploring.

I traversed the hideout normally, reaching the B2F elevator. Using the ??? Key unlocked the hidden B3F—a fog-filled floor with journals strewn on tables, each revealing pieces of a harrowing tale.

The journals reveal the following: An unknown author struggles to document an incident at Cinnabar Mansion in which Mewtwo’s psychic abilities were amplified to an extent deemed impossible by both them and the mansion’s researchers. Over the following few days, numerous people around Kanto reportedly experience intense nightmares of the same underwater city and cannot drink water for nearly two days afterward.

The entries abruptly jump ahead in time; the author explains that they must be careful what they write, or else their entries might be deleted. They describe two journals that have gone missing from the mansion, as they contained information deemed “impossible”, and that many of the researchers who’d worked on the project have vanished. Although they can remember the researchers’ names, they cannot write them for whatever reason. In the aftermath of this incident, the interior of the mansion reportedly warped into a state that did not match its original blueprint, and when officers were sent in to conduct reconnaissance, they vanished as well. The final entry conveys that Mewtwo’s DNA was spliced using a second source that originated from west of the Seafoam Islands. They cannot say its name; doing so results in deletion.

A phone tapped into a conversation rests on the wall near the final entry: Erika’s voice, highlighted in red as before, pleads with Koga to tell her Millennium’s weakness, but he cannot conjure one up. It seems like she, too, is trying to figure out a way to stop the chaos. I genuinely felt bad for her, and I started to feel worse for everyone whom I’d harmed. But I was in too deep now. By continuing to play—by continuing to satisfy my curiosity—I had to continue to hurt.

Entering a room in the newly unlocked hall north of the final entry, there Giovanni stood. When talking to him, it didn’t feel like I was the one being talked to; it felt like Red had begun to fight back. Giovanni berated him for apparently claiming that he doesn’t want to battle, even though he’s slowly, hesitantly reaching for his Pokeball. I began to think about what may be going on in Red’s head. His feelings, his desires, the relationships he’d been programmed to have—all of them were being destroyed by me, the Hand.

But he couldn’t stop me. You can’t stop the player from playing the game. And so, the battle began.

Giovanni’s defeat was swift. He began to berate me, which quickly transitioned into an offer to join him in taking over the world, as is his programmed desire. The voice returned, having had enough of his rambling.

A blinding flash and a deep tremor. Giovanni was gone as if he’d never existed.

I obtained the Odd Ticket lying on the desk where he once stood. There’s only one place in all of Kanto where I could use this… Back to Vermilion!

Wait. It seemed that level shouldn’t have been gained. The voice, now frantic, claims that we must not catch the Land’s attention and that I must go to Lavender Town at once. That certainly threw a wrench in what otherwise has been a “linear” journey. I guess there’s no choice.

Once I arrived in Lavender Town, a familiar face reemerged: Professor Oak! I hadn’t seen him since the very beginning! He claimed that while he and Blue were inside, something invisible burst from the floor. Water began pouring from the crack it left in the ground, causing the building to wildly distort, and the entity began pulling people into the ever-expanding ocean. People are apparently still trapped inside, including Blue and Daisy—Oak’s daughter from the anime, apparently—and he needs my help to defeat the anomaly before it can escape its confinement. Arceus, what in the world is happening?

Red spoke in apparent silence once more, but it was clear he was asking if the funeral was for Raticate—our starter’s first victim. Oak expressed sympathy toward Red, gently suggesting that a Pokémon’s death is a fact of life and that such an accident isn’t uncommon. But it wasn’t an accident. He warned me that the trauma that Blue endured—his harrowing description of my Blastoise—may be too much for him to bear.

Inside the tower, shadows briefly flicker out of existence, and ghosts line the halls. As I climbed higher, I began encountering trainers who seemed to be possessed by… something. Their speech was as incomprehensible as the Pokémon they battled with: Bad Eggs and Fossils with garbled names. When defeated, they sounded dazed, having no memory of what happened to them.

I eventually reached a doorway that teleported me into the center of a massive spiral-shaped room. Oak wasn’t lying—this room was much larger than the tower’s blueprint could hold. This was just like the Cinnabar Mansion situation! Maybe that mutant Mewtwo is behind this… I obviously couldn’t say for sure. A lot of things had happened real fast.

The Pokémon up here are incredibly corrupted, their figures overlaid with negative light and a Missingno-style texture. They weren’t particularly hard to deal with, but were instead an unsettling reminder of how its influence could transform anything into an abombinable mess.

Further ahead, I encountered Daisy, whose dialogue was definitely unfitting for a child. She pointed out how strange it was that the funeral here took place so quickly and lasted longer than it should’ve taken to plan. She seemed to think that this entire ordeal was a game, befitting of a playful spirit—and she seemed to be keenly aware that Red isn’t the only person listening.

As I ran after her, “It” began leveling up much more quickly, as if the power of the distortion was aiding its growth. Cryptic comments about my divulsion from the fated path were uttered by each trainer I defeated, further emphasizing the dire straits I’d put this place in.

Lavender Town syndrome mentioned! And she’d been living here her whole life, huh. It felt safe to assume that my playful spirit theory was valid. The hide-and-seek game continued deeper into the tower—she expressed even more awareness of my presence influencing Red, seemingly asking him if he chose his name, then clearly stating she wasn’t asking him. She then claimed that whatever had awoken inside the tower had always been awake, but only a little itty bit. It’s just like the voice said: a God will continue to exist if there are those who believe in it.

Jumping down a hole surrounded by tombstones, I found Blue, frantic and emotional. He and Daisy discuss the peculiarity of the funeral situation before he notices Red’s presence and shouts in relief. Red seems to tell him that he’s here to save him, which briefly gives him solace. Now that his friend was by his side—the same Red he remembered—everything, at least in his mind, was going to be okay. Maybe that hope is why he absolved Red from any guilt—the hope that things were still as normal as they used to be. What a gut punch, man.

With renewed confidence, Blue darts forward to confront the unknown, and I quickly gave chase.

This is going to sound hilarious, but this was genuinely the first thing in the hack that made me utter a genuine “What the fuck?” In my opinion, it’s modeled similarly to the “Doomsday” PokeGod that was a Gameshark-exclusive ‘mon that would’ve existed in Gold/Silver. I’m still not quite sure I’m correct in my assumption here, but it’s my only real plausible guess.

And it was impossible to defeat it, too. My first few futile attempts led to whiteouts that sent me straight back to the Pokémon Center, which caused the game to crash on purpose. Thank God I’ve been using save states like Abby suggested! I quickly realized my only option was to run, which greatly angered Blue and made him shout at me to stop being such a coward and save the world.

After getting fully fed up with my inaction, he came to my side. The screen darkened, and he began to hypnotically ramble as if he, too, were becoming possessed. He quickly broke free from his stupor, even motioning for Red to break free too, but before he could say more…

A blinding flash and a deep tremor. Blue was gone as if he’d never existed.

Something cries for help—Blue, maybe? I couldn’t ponder on it for long, as the voice frantically returned to tell me that “something else” may notice us. Now I was really starting to get my mind in a whirl. What could possibly be more threatening than the force that’s acted nothing but imposing? The force that’s been adamant in bringing about its will through me? I was quickly booted back out of the tower, and to my surprise, Daisy followed right behind.

She burns me with the painful truth that had I simply not decided to continue, Blue would not have perished, Red wouldn’t have been forced to watch his childhood friend and rival’s death, and that everything would’ve naturally taken care of itself. It was a brutal reminder that because of my determination to see this hack through to its conclusion, the damage I’d done was permanent. She tells me that it’s in my best interest to leave, and with a pit in my stomach, I do just that.

So, uh, remember that Odd Ticket? Maybe now’s the best time to figure out its deal, haha! God dammit.

Back in Vermillion, I reluctantly talked to the Sailor, who apologized for starting off on the wrong foot with Red and said that he’s totally “just some kid.” Right… Nice demeanor change. Looks like he’d be taking me to Six Island with no issue, but what was I going to do there?

Once I landed on the island, I bolted toward the first place I could remember exploring in my playthroughs of vanilla FireRed/LeafGreen: Dotted Hole. It’s the place where you obtain the Sapphire as part of a larger quest that ends in gaining the ability to trade with the Hoenn games. If there was going to be anything for me to find, it had to be there. There wasn’t really much else to go off at this point, really, so I had to trust my gut.

Once I reached its entrance, a scientist stood in front of its door, blocking me from entry. He briefly mentioned that he couldn’t figure out how to get inside. Without warning, I was given a textless prompt that I knew, at this point, could only mean one thing.

Now that he’d been taken care of, I was able to Abyss the door open and head inside. I solved the braille puzzle as normal and managed to obtain the Sapphire without much fanfare, leaving me once again stranded without an idea of what to do. I tried seeing if I could cite Abby’s guide again, but it’d long been irrelevant at this stage. I wracked my brain for a moment, and then it hit me.

It’d been in front of me since the start! Again! The trip to Outcast Island took barely any time at all—no trainer could pose a threat to me, but at this point all I could feel when I used Abyss was pure, unadulterated shame. The thought of what I could possibly find in Altering Cave was the only thing that could distract me. Fortunately, one thought was about to be proven true.

I knew he was bluffing. Inside Altering Cave, the Sailor reveals that I’ve fallen into a major trap. That Odd Ticket that lay on Giovanni’s desk… It must’ve been what the Sailor gave that grunt in the Game Corner! Knowing that there’s nothing I can do but listen, he tells a story about how a friend of his discovered a chamber deep within the Seafoam Islands that “should’ve never existed”, and that he believed I was surely intending on going there.

But… I couldn’t go there. He was the only one programmed to take me back to Kanto, and he certainly wasn’t going to take me back knowing that I’d continue to destroy everything in my path. He asked me one final time: come with him to Kanto without whatever I needed from this cave, or kill him, sealing my fate for good.

Yeah, it made sense that this would be his reaction. Red was at the mercy of my influence, which meant he was cursed to give a vague, linear response. Regardless, he kept egging me on, believing that, either way, I was totally screwed.

Like all the others, he vanished in an instant. I ran around the darkened cave in search of what to do next, knowing deep inside that this couldn’t be the end. Then, just to the north, the screen went dark and a feeling crept into Red’s mind. I guided him through.

The newly opened cave led me back outside to what looked like another dead end, but to my surprise, I was able to surf on tiles that are normally impassable. I surfed north, the water below me slowly melting into the dark, reality fragmenting into black, and there the entrance was.

I don’t know what I expected, but finding myself in a realm of darkness littered with crumbs of a distorted reality was not on the bingo card. The aesthetic here is uniquely oppressive compared to anywhere else in the hack—the only beings I found here were glitched tiles that spouted more cryptic jargon and more amalgamations only encountered when treading on its edges. This had to be the Abyss, or at least a layer above it, and wandering around was about the only thing I could do for the first ten minutes or so.

There were quite a few kinds of puzzles to solve before I was able to descend any deeper; the first kind was these finicky Strength puzzles whose boulders reset if you move far enough away from them. Once I’d seemingly backed myself into a corner, the key was to move just far enough away so that a certain boulder or two would reset back to their original positions, allowing me to complete the puzzle and safely pass into the next area. It was tricky to figure out at first because my natural instinct was to reset the whole thing (which you can do via an NPC nearby) and try again, but once I did, I thought it was decently clever. Boulders don’t do this in vanilla FireRed/LeafGreen, so it kinda fits with the whole reality-bending thematic conventions that’ve been slowly building up through the entire experience.

Next was a room with eight statues that each had a different phrase written on them: “FALSE VACCUM”, “RISING WATER”, “LEYLINE”, “GHOSTLY ENTOURAGE”, “DOTTED BOUNDARY”, “INVALID”, “PHANTOM LIMB”, and “SIMULACRUM”. The solution to this one would’ve been extremely unclear if not for the words of a glitched tile right before its entrance; apparently, a “hidden page within the text” was my only salvation—could this have been referring to something hidden within Abby’s guide?

As a matter of fact, that’s exactly what it meant. Inspecting the eight dead image links in Step 5’s section revealed the aforementioned phrases in the correct sequence needed to proceed. Funnily enough, the first letter of each, when lined up, spells “FRLG (dot) IPS”. Hah! I then spoke to the statues in the correct order, causing a hole to open in the void, leading me deeper.

It was, at first, a little tough to properly make sense of the subsequent lore dump that awaited me as I walked down the next hallway, but I’ll try to summarize it: The King, a seemingly omnipotent force with influence on those wandering the unreality, planned to awaken the Abyss, comprised of all that is known and unknown, and bring it into reality. By nature of the Abyss, although it is what doesn’t exist, now does. But not all shadows dwelling within had the patience to wait until they all could be free; “Nightmare” and its followers had no desire to wait for the King’s command, so they tried to seep into reality before they could properly exist, which meant that they never could. When the King is finally able to fully manifest itself into reality, so too will all lost things—from dreams, nightmares, lies, and everything in between. It would not be the end of the world, but a reality in which life is incompatible.

Now that was a doozy. It’s wild to think of how quickly the hack dove headfirst into a kind of Lovecraftian unreality, right? In my interpretation, this sequence conveys the nature of what transpired leading up to my arrival on this plane. The King—who I believe to be Missingno—has been using me, the Hand, to assist in its rebirth. It needed me to siphon power from all agents of rumor that I’d encountered—the six individuals, all the glitches, Abby’s instructions—and allow them to feed my curiosity. By doing so, I opened a clear avenue for it and all of its subjects to become real, because I manifested them to be through my relentless pursuit of secrets. What existed before—the reality of Vanilla FireRed/LeafGreen—is not compatible with what I’m attempting to conjure, so if I’m to continue for the millionth time, my loyalty will be tested through my continuous effort. It’s all a crazy, interesting way to lend credence to all those rumors that Pokémon fans both spread and claimed to believe, and a harrowing reminder of what my ceaseless desire has done by giving them power.

At the end of the hall, another node stood, which gave me a link to a new webpage of entries written by Abby. The most notable one was an entry about Pikablu being real, which, fittingly, plays right into the ideas I just discussed.

She laments how blindly she believed the rumor, saying she did so because her brother Kyle did as well. She poured countless hours into trying to find the elusive Pokémon, but as she kept coming up short, she had to create a new perception of it—one that led her to “protecting” Pikablu from becoming lost by perpetuating its myth, even going as far as to hack into someone else’s website just to lie about it.

This entry gives another welcome look into Abby’s personality and how she factors into this whole mess. Her perspective is truly believable for someone that young and that curious; I felt like if I was as committed to finding something I knew wasn’t real, especially something seemingly harmless like an internet rumor, I’d probably have fun with spreading my own lies, too. Perhaps my rediscovery of her forgotten desires has strengthened the emergence of the Abyss… Fascinating.

As evidenced by the green letters highlighted on the webpage, another dark room voice puzzle followed. Having done one already, this one was much easier to follow, despite the hints being a little more complex. Once I solved the puzzle, I was shot out of a cannon (literally) into the Abyss and found my way to another door, at which point…

Professor Oak shows up unexpectedly! How did he get here?

Turns out the Sailor had given him prior warning of what I was capable of, and directed him toward the same cave entrance that I’d gone through to get here. He pleads with Red—no, me—to stop what he’s doing and come back with him to Kanto. He claimed that they’d be able to move on—that they could all find some semblance of normalcy if he returned to where he belongs, but I wouldn’t let that happen. Red clamors up when given the choice because my will is indesputible. Exhausted and out of options, the professor does the only thing he can.

Much like Blaine’s email urged, Oak brought all of his strongest Pokemon. I wondered if he knew that it was no use.

Upon defeat, Oak reflects on how quickly time has passed since he gave me my Squirtle, and he could tell from the very beginning that something wasn’t quite right. It was clear that something sinister was influencing him, but as he could not perceive anything outside the boundaries of the game world, he deduced that Red himself was sinister. Even his clear expressions of fear and helplessness fading into soulless apathy—indicators that he was not in control of his own body—could not convince him otherwise.

It was legitimately gut-wrenching to watch, especially knowing that Red is weeping for his childhood role model to believe him. But it was already too late. I’m given a choice to respond to his accusations, but once he hears “my true voice”, he rejects the conversation entirely and leaves, urging both Red and me not to follow. I was left not with the choice to plead for his forgiveness or bring about his end, but instead with the cold, oppressive darkness and a door that beckoned for me.

Back in the garden, it’d begun to pour. I wandered around in search of an old “friend” that I knew must still be lurking around.

Gone was the chipper demeanor that the anomaly had before. It hastily begins to explain the nature of this world so that I may better understand: The Abyss is all that never was, and that it could only grow through sacrifice. The King was originally an ordinary shadow drifting through the dark, but an unknown force began to view it as a threat. If the emergence of the King had not come about, the Abyss likely would’ve remained lost in unreality, but…

It goes on to explain that she was the last of the “ancient dreamers” willing to write such “grand mistruths” and to fully believe in their validity. She had captured the King’s avatar and used it to nearly awaken the Abyss, but the attempt failed. Unfazed, the King and its subjects were grateful for the push and used the subsequent decades to prepare for the arrival of the Hand.

As I sacrificed more and more to the Abyss, it grew stronger, yet a threat still remained: If the land were to become aware of the Abyss, it and all of its denizens would cease to be. The anomaly claims the Land is still searching for that which doesn’t exist, finding it ironic that it could be so concerned about the stability of its reality when the Abyss is no more real. Regretful over Nightmare’s premature attempt at manifestation, it notes that changes to the plan must now be made, and finally gives me this:

It urges me to meet with the king of the Abyss, giving me the HM for Dive, but before it can say its true name, it vanishes. It was pretty clear who they were referring to by this point—at least to me it was.

This was yet another great glimpse into Abby’s connection to the forces intertwined with her website—and at this point, maybe her personal life as well. Her childlike determination to spread the mythos of Pokémon rumors had helped create and give power to the eldritch horrors I’d been experiencing, and I’ve simply become the next arbiter of their manifestation. I loved the clear Lovecraftian inspiration laid bare here. It serves the plot’s purpose well enough to both unsettle me further and to paint a clearer picture of the nature of my experiences.

I couldn’t help but wonder what exactly happened to Abby after hearing all that. Had she simply grown tired of her childhood hobbies and moved on? Or had something more sinister halted her aid toward the Abyss? There were a few scattered hints in the darkness; one room in particular contained an NPC sprite mirroring mine—possibly an old player—whose dialogue was uniquely colored green. They discuss trying to find a shop that sells flowers called forget-me-nots and that it’s been her favorite flower ever since they were little… Kyle! It made sense that this was a manifestation of his consciousness, given the faulty punctuation and the fact that he was the only other close relative of Abby present on her site. But why was this present in the Abyss? And why was he talking to me so casually as if we were in the real world?

I couldn’t dwell on that for too long. The anomaly’s voice cautiously urges me toward my next goal and confirms that I am now the sole arbiter of fate. I could not let Red, or anyone else, get in the way. Whether or not the Abyss’ plan is realized is purely up to me.

This was the point at which this labyrinthian journey became even more so. Apparently, I couldn’t go to the Seafoam Islands just yet, so I started searching for the “beach where the house never was”, which I could only assume could be the beach directly north of me on Route 19. In Gen 1, the Surfin’ Dude’s house used to be there, but it was removed from FireRed/LeafGreen—Maybe that was the “house that never was”!

But all I found there was a disgruntled Erika, pretending to ignore me entirely. The ominous noise played whenever I talked to her, which I thought meant she was the key to progress, but if there was anything to find, I didn’t find it. I eventually wandered my way back into Pallet Town, where I impulsively decided to check that silly ol’ rock by the water one last time.

… What’s it going to turn into now?

Jesus Christ.

With the final abomination in hand, I decided the only place to go was those damn islands and meet my maker.

Immeasurable Depths

Remember that dead end in the Seafoam Islands I mentioned? Well, now it was my last resort. Behind where Articuno once stood—I’d already Abyssed it away long before—lay a cave entrance not present in the vanilla game. Behind it lay the Neptune Cavern: a sprawling maze of hallways and dead-end caves that lead deeper underground. Its namesake may refer to the Neptunians, a race of aliens named after the planet from which they derive their name, who appear in H.P. Lovecraft’s works. Not sure if this was an intentional reference or simply a way of emphasizing how deep the caverns are, but it piqued my interest regardless.

After finding my way through, I encountered a room that was an exact replica of the tip of Route 25, with a cave entrance that looked just like the one leading to the secret garden. Come to think of it, those blue flowers look quite a lot like forget-me-nots…

Through the mock garden entrance lay a long hallway with a deep pool of water at the end, but before I could jump in…

The Sailor, warped beyond recognition, jumps out of the pool and confronts me. Driven by nothing but pure hatred for what I’ve done, he berates me for having come this far and believing that I would not suffer any consequences. With the Abyss corrupting him with each movement, he screeches for my end to come and challenges me.

This was by far the trickiest fight in the hack. Each of the Sailor’s Pokemon was no pushover; his Foretress’s explosion nearly took out all of Ruin’s health, and if you’ve already taught it all four HMs (including Dive) as I did, you no longer have access to Abyss, making this a much greater challenge. I no longer had my cheat code—I even lost the fight once! But once I finally whittled his ‘mons down to nothing, the inevitable crept into his mind. Even without godlike power, my will couldn’t be denied.

Distraught over his failure, he spits vitriol and begs for my death, hoping that somehow I’d quit right then and there. But then, he realizes something.

I’ll admit, I kind of laughed at this part. It’s a clever moment of self-awareness of the game’s rules by the Sailor, sure, but it can’t be denied that this is the exact same scenario that happens at the end of Undertale’s Sans fight. After a few more insults, I half expected to gain control of my character and use Abyss on him, like how the Soul pushes the dialogue box toward the fight button. That’s not quite what ended up happening.

A blinding flash and a deep—Yeah, you know the drill. Except I wasn’t the one who killed him; something else seems to have taken care of the job. With no barriers left to break, I jumped into the water and descended far deeper than anyone had ever gone.

This is the true Abyss: a mangled factory dotted with forget-me-nots, glitched tiles, silent shadows, and a disorganized, minimalistic tune. The aura of this place was menacing—not because I feared something terrible would happen, but because I knew it already had. It was an utterly broken, melancholic wasteland that signified the impending death of everything this universe once held.

Noded teleportation was the only way to progress. Some glitched spin tiles pushed me into areas outside the boundaries of the map, creating odd pathways toward wherever my eventual destination was. I eventually found my way to one last ordered sign puzzle; the solution was no different from its statue variant, but there were more signs disrupting the order. I had to retrace my steps multiple times just to memorize the solution.

Once the puzzle was solved, I was teleported to an even drearier sea that required me to jump across rocks in specific directions. Again, nothing too complicated. I’m sort of running out of things to say about the puzzles at this point.

At numerous junctures, Kyle’s apparition can be interacted with, and what he said made my stomach churn.

It’s evident that Abby had fallen ill and wasn’t getting any better, possibly because of her exposure to the strange algae attached to the GBA. He seemed to be talking to someone, arguing with them over the creation of a ROM hack he’s working on, but who exactly it was remained a mystery. It seemed like Kyle was implementing changes to the hack as a tribute to his sick sister, and whoever was working with him didn’t take kindly to them.

At one point, the conversation seems to jump ahead in time. Kyle seemed to have abandoned his work on the ROM hack and taken a job to help support Abby’s recovery, but… whoever he’s talking to seems to have no clue who she is, as if the memory of her was slowly starting to fade from reality. He even seems to confuse his own identity for a moment, suggesting he may also be losing his grip on reality. I felt like my heart just got ripped clean out.

One final page link is given; within it, there is barely anything visible. The page is broken beyond repair, but further inspection revealed hidden dialogue that conveys what I can only assume are Kyle’s despondent thoughts about having let his sister’s memory fade into nothing. When I clicked on any of these hidden lines, I was sent to another webpage where it became clear that Abby’s existence was perilously close to being null and void.

Filled with abject horror at what I’d read, I was plunged into darkness once more.

The King emerged from the dark and spread its wings. The battle began without much warning.

Defeating it was… easy. It couldn’t be that way for no reason, right? Had I just slain God, or was this part of the plan too?

I’d seen everything there was to see. Each hidden location, each ancient secret, all culminating in an anti-climactic battle against the one true King of Pokémon mythos. I’d exhausted each and every method, pushed the world to its limits and left it on the brink of destruction, and it was all for… this? To bear witness to its form rather than harness its power? This must be what I deserved. No killer deserves salvation.

It tells me that I was not the one planned to receive protection, but that Red was. He deserves compensation for the havoc that I’d caused—the ways in which I’d destroyed his life and universe—and now I, the Hand, would be forced to provide it. As the Land has begun its incusion upon the Abyss, something greater than anticipated would be required—a connection to an even higher plane.

And with that, the reality of FireRed/LeafGreen had been completely consumed by the Abyss.

Agreeing to be used as its messenger, it bestows upon me one last piece of knowledge about the Abyss: It cannot be contained within just a ROM, or a cartridge, or a Game Boy. Because I have perceived it, even though it isn’t real, it’s finally become real. But… why did I need to know this? I’d already learned this long ago! What purpose could this “revelation” possibly serve?

As the credits began to roll, the pit in my stomach grew. I’d just destroyed everything, enabling the world of FireRed/Leafgreen to be used as a conduit for the Abyss’ influence. Because I had perceived the creation of the payload—the hack itself—I’d willingly, yet unwillingly, verified its existence. Now it could spread to others, capturing the curiosity of inquisitive minds and allowing the Abyss to grow more and more and more until it can no longer be denied.

And this whole time—this whole damn time—my words, too, have helped it grow.

I was reluctant to load my save after being booted to the title screen. Maybe I shouldn’t have, because nothing remained.

---

The Actual Review Part

And that was FRLG.ips! If you’re down here cause you either got tired of my emotionally charged writing or just simply wanted to hear my more constructive thoughts, I thank you for taking the time to read this! Now, let’s get into the meat of it.

FRLG.ips is what I consider to be a modern gateway into ROM hacking as an art form rather than a purely gameplay-centric experience. Its facade as purely an “improvement” to the vanilla game, while not as subtle as it could’ve been (coughs the forum post coughs), is executed extremely well. The fact that you can play the entirety of the game without realizing that anything’s wrong is, although a simple idea, a compelling way to make what does happen in the story hit much harder. It doesn’t matter that nothing it does inherently improves the experience of playing a Pokémon game because it doesn’t need to. It’s how compelling an experience it is that makes it so good.

This hack is meant to be an exploration of the power of childhood/internet rumors mixed with a healthy dose of cosmic horror, and my god does it tie them all up in a relatively neat knot. Using the allure of classic glitches such as Missingno, Bill’s Secret Garden, and the PokéGods all makes for a captivating experience even if you have just surface-level knowledge of all these concepts. Their implementation in the narrative as driving forces of the Abyss, who’re strengthened by the power of the mere perception of conjecture, is a really sick idea because it mirrors the power they held over those who perpetuated their existence. They both grow stronger when people believe in them, and it’s haunting to witness their manipulation of a universe with hard-coded right and wrong (i.e., the Land, which is the game’s programming, trying to counteract the Abyss’ encroachment).

But even if you lack any knowledge of these old rumors, the hack uses the suspense of that sense of normalcy you feel while playing the vanilla game, knowing it’s a horror hack, to further unsettle you when something actually goes wrong. It feeds on your curiosity by keeping its secrets just out of sight, and if you truly want to find anything of worth, you have to actively choose to search for the unknown. Now, imagine if you happened upon this hack with absolutely zero context; you’d either think it’s a completely normal ROM, or you may catch onto one of the many tiny hints the hack implants into the vanilla game that are meant to make you curious:

Isn’t this cool? I can’t exactly go into the multitude of different secrets that you can discover in a normal playthrough, but trust me when I say they’re there for you to find.

Now, even if the hack’s narrative was just a tribute to old Pokémon rumors, I still would’ve enjoyed the premise. But the addition of Abby’s website and her lore gave it a human element that really strengthened its message. I don’t think I would’ve felt as dejected by the end of it if bits of Abby’s tragedy weren’t included throughout, and I’m super glad they were. Her passion for unabashedly sharing secrets through her site evolved from something innocent into a much deeper narrative, parallel to the Abyss and its denizens; just as rumors like the PokéGods were forgotten, so too were Abby’s site and, eventually, the memory of her existence. Even without the implication that an eldritch force may have hastened her demise (it’s never directly confirmed, but I believe the Abyss can also serve as a metaphor for the fading of her memory over time), I don’t think the experience would’ve been as compelling without her and her website. It made me terribly sad seeing her brother’s slow realization that everyone, including him, is beginning to forget she ever existed.

Speaking of which, in terms of its writing, I can see the hack being a bit hit-or-miss for some. The creator of the hack, novameow, is very earnest about having drawn inspiration from games such as Undertale and Deltarune, as well as general concepts/mythos from Lovecraftian media. If you’re familiar with these, the whole hack can seem like a mixture between Deltarune’s “Weird Route”, Undertale’s genocide route, and elements of Lovecraftian literature like The Abyss of Yhe and Cthulhuism. I’d argue that the hack does a good enough job of distinguishing itself from these inspirations, but there were definitely a few moments where elements felt a little too on-the-nose. Take the Sailor, for example; he’s basically the FireRed/LeafGreen version of Sans. Once you venture down the path of annihilating everything in your path, much like Sans, he becomes the strong-headed, sometimes goofy character meant to dissuade you from going any further. He’s not a carbon copy in the sense that his actions are one-to-one with Sans, but his role in the hack’s narrative is virtually the same, so I can see how his influence can make the atmosphere feel a bit superficial.

Characters like Professor Oak and Blue can also seem a little underdeveloped for the few moments they have, but in their cases, you’re supposed to let your prior knowledge/attachement to them as they exist in vanilla FireRed/LeafGreen allow you to garner more empathy for them. The reason they don’t show up more is, well, because you’re intentionally straying from the normal path; thus, you don’t get to know them as well as you would’ve. Your history with the Kanto region will definitely impact how you view their characterizations, but I do believe they have substance even without pre-existing notions. You end up traumatizing them, killing their Pokémon, and destroying the dimension they live in. Given the hack tries to persuade you that NPCs have lives and feelings even though they’re programmed, it’s hard not to feel terrible for them. Even side characters like Erika, who receives almost no characterization in the vanilla game, are given means to express how they feel trapped by their programming, yet petrified at the thought of anything changing. It’s pretty damn cool.

In addition, there’s a lot of extremely vague dialogue pertaining to the Abyss and its mythos scattered throughout the hack. During each inflection point of the story, the lore that’s provided is definitely clear and mysterious enough to remain compelling, but there were definitely a few NPCs who said cryptic things just for the sake of doing so. Now, I’m not a firm believer that this is an overall bad thing; depending on your level of immersion and attachment to the premises being explored, some dialogue could either confuse the hell out of you or create an even larger overarching mystery that keeps you hunting for more. In my case, I liked how cryptic some of the lore ended up being, because that’s the nature of unreality: it’s incomprehensible, yet all-encompassing. Once you perceive a line of dialogue that explains a concept like Nightmare, the King and his court, and entities slipping through the cracks of reality, because you struggle to make sense of it, the allure of the Abyss is amplified. You’re not supposed to understand everything, but what the hack does convey can most definitely be comprehended and compelling if you give it a bit of thought.

Overall, I think this hack rules. I feel like I could come up with an endless list of little details that I love, but I don’t want to spend another billion hours writing another billion words, so I think I’ll just briefly cover a few more:

The occasional dialogue from Daisy on the journey recap screen: When I first saw this after loading my save between sessions, I went wide-eyed. She basically repeatedly calls you a terrible person, and receiving this beratement even outside the game was a great meta moment.

Conflicting reports regarding Abby’s final entry: Both the final Saltwater Times entry and Kyle and Chorusofthecursed’s chat log share the same date, and according to the latter’s account, what’s written there is not sanctioned by Chorus. This then begs the question: Who exactly sent her the rumor, and is she even the one posting it? The rumor in question happens to be a description of a lost Pokémon anime episode with some pretty… lore-appropriate content.

Now that I think about it more, this entry might be where “Nightmare” comes from. There’s a pretty vivid description in the episode recap of a creature that looks like “a violet mass of rotting flesh… impaled with masses of iron needles”. That sounds pretty similar to what I saw in Lavender Tower. To go even deeper, maybe the reason why Missingno and its followers labeled Nightmare as having acted too hastily was that even Abby didn’t seem to believe in it. Maybe its premature manifestation was due to its relatively nonsubtle, comically “scary” source material that most definitely wouldn’t have tricked anyone into believing it. The Abyss needs people to perceive and continue believing in its existence to perpetuate itself, so maybe that plot point was one giant metaphor for how a low-effort hoax only serves to diminish one’s interest in staying curious? Food for thought.

NPCs noticing environmental and atmospheric changes: I loved it when I talked to a random NPC, and they’d comment on how oppressive the world had become, make a comment hinting that the Abyss had begun creeping into their minds, or become confused at the mention of a classic rumor. Juxtaposed against everything else functioning normally amidst the chaos, these moments were simple yet striking.

Pokémon Pine: On the ROM hacks page of Abby’s website, there’s an entire hack available to download called Pokémon Pine made by her brother Kyle. It’s got some neat additional lore in it, so it’s definitely worth checking out. Word on the street is that if you plug your save from Pine into FRLG.ips, strange things happen…

Alright… I think I’m done! If you’re a Pokémon fanatic who’s combed over everything this series has to offer, FRLG.ips is right up your alley, even if you’re not into horror. And if you’re not, well, I’d highly encourage you to give it a try anyway. It’s a very interesting use of a few hours that’ll have you contemplating a lot by the end.

See ya!