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Lapras emptystar emptystar emptystar emptystar emptystar

Breathing in the salty ocean air, life fills your lungs as dawn’s early light is illuminating the former night sky. Not a single person is on a beach in Cinnabar Island. While it is close to the Kanto region, the only things around you are crab pokémon - sleeping Krabby with snot bubbles in their soft tan maws and resting red pincers.


Walking along an occupied area far from most eyes, your tanned skin and light colored hair glistens from the waves crashing closeby. Irritated eyes blink to get the salt water out of them. Barefoot steps walk along the sand, as a faded blue pair of swim trunks mark the many trips to the great blue waters close to home. You can’t remember how many days you have been doing these self-imposed swim meets, but they’re a source of personal pride.


Being a swimmer with aspirations for 1st place gold is what drives you to such a place. With the morning on your own to train, the rough waters bear no judging eyes to your scrawny frame. You’re healthy, but can’t swim for too long. Not yet.


As you check your surroundings for things that could show any signs of a pesky pokémon trainer or tourist in the way, the coast is clear, but something catches your attention before the call of the water can be answered.


Slow steps are turned faster as the Sun’s rays shine towards the distraction, caught beside a palm tree. The spot in question is naturally split from the center of the trunk in two directions. Embedded to the point where the diagonal sections intersect, a scoff escapes your disappointed lips. Is that the only thing that stole you for a moment? A mundane piece of clothing you can see any day while living by the water?


A cream one piece swimsuit with shoulder straps is leered at. A U-shaped cut separates the straps, and has material running down to the groin. Room for the hip region has leg holes to slip out of, being a typical onesie for what is assumed to be for a woman. You start to wonder what motivated you to break focus for a mere set of swimwear.


Idly grabbing the suit, you mutter a curse as it must be some refuse left behind by a skinny dipper. Some wild one left a bit of trash for the locals to clean up. However, you let out a soft gasp as your fingers curl into the piece of clothing.


Gripping the alien item turns out to feel much better than previously pondered, as the hands find the clothing bend like rubber. It feels good to be holding onto it.


Dismissive thoughts are ignored as you’re holding the suit by its shoulder straps, and eyeing the discarded suit. One woman’s trash is one man’s treasure, after all, you tell yourself.


Wiggling out of your trunks, they slide down to your ankles with little fanfare. No one else is around at this time. It’s early enough to not be glared at for indecent exposure, right? What would a bit of a costume change hurt? Besides, it would make you faster in the water with the sleek design.


As your attention is fixed to look at the suit you’re borrowing for the moment, the earlier garbage is seen as the best thing in the world right now.


Caution is set aside while stepping into the suit. Skin touching the clingy material feels wonderful, prompting you to release a gentle coo of delight. Pulling it over your junk feels a little tight in the groin area, but far from being the first time swimwear to have a bit of a tight fit.


You look down at yourself with pride, grinning madly at how well the new suit feels.


Looking away at the weathered trunks that are shown as a badge of honor and commitment, a slight nod is made in reference to it. You’ll be back for it later, you think.


Feet propel you forward, walking towards the water’s edge, and rolling waves with their soothing ambience. As soon as your toes touch the shore’s sand and get wet, a sharp sigh of triumph comes out.


“HAAAAAAAAH!” You exclaim. “Finally, I need to test this suit…”


More steps, and the water level is up to your waist. It’s cold, so there’s the natural notion of shrinkage going on between your legs, like a frightened turtle.


Little did you know, it’s not the water that’s making such adjustments.


The tightness between your thighs doesn’t get any better. Usually such a sensation is chalked up to pruning up from the water’s caress. With a tug deep into your bikini area, the phantom sensation of not feeling your “him” any more causes some concern.


Not only that, the creme swimsuit is looking like it would fit you better, being smoother without male bulges in the way. A pair of lumps slip inside your body beyond the first lump, leaving genitalia to reorganize themselves to a different route. Blushing cheeks feel flush with embarrassment as you feel the soft lips of a new honeypot barely poking against the clinging material over them.


“N-noooohhh… Uhaaaahh…”, you groan, finding the loss to not be as missed as you find the distraction of new parts pleasing to feel around.


A hand, curious to find out more about what’s new, strokes the smoother area. Rubbing the spot feels awfully nice, but this pleasing feeling spreads out to the thighs filling up the suit. As if inspecting your thighs for any changes, you get to feel more things to distract yourself with.


Plumper muscles puff out at the touch. Muscles vibrate, training to be stronger and growing mass in a matter of seconds. You wonder what would have happened if training confidently from day to night was possible. Anxiety is such a pain as a shut-in, other eyes making you second guess yourself. Covering these intense workouts, a soft layer of fat covers the new build, shaping the thighs to be much longer and thicker. Pleasantly built, and without a presence of hair, they look better.


You find yourself grinning at what’s going on, but the curt smile stops as you speak out about what you see.


“These are sexy lady swimmer legs… They’re not mine! So strong… And my dick is a va-”


Not waiting for you to explore further, cutting off your exclaiming thoughts, thin knees crunch with broader flexors, next in line for your evolution. A bigger build is made for these thighs, so the changes continue further down, giving thicker support for shins to puff in healthy expansion. The shift looks to progress closer to the sandy feet below.


Down to the sea floor, narrow feet change in dull snaps, muffled from the water. Growing widths spread out to be stronger, and make the feet go from an arched narrow step, to flatten the sole and expand. Stepping into a wider stance, each foot now 12 inches long and easily 4 inches wide, good luck trying to find shoes that would fit them.


“No… No this isn’t… Why is this…”


Your lamenting on the situation falls on deaf ears.


It was your idea to be out here on your own, right? Help from someone doesn’t seem to be an option, so you opt to try and stop any further changes from happening.


Hands grasp at your chest, trying to tug the material off of your body. No chance in doing so with blunt short cut nails unable to pierce the suit‘s chest and drag it’s warm grip away from yourself. You do manage to get something to improve.


The happy groans from before? Now moans escape your lips as there’s more pleasure sensors firing in your brain, dulling your worry with parts that stick out of you.


Slipping your thumbs to the straps of the suit, you find a grip on them, and pull outward. Your chest fills up, puffing out past your tightening navel. If you thought your hands fumbling around B cups felt good, then Cs pulled with support let out a howl from your mouth.




If there was a chance to free yourself from the suit before, those expanding breasts on a built body makes it impossible. One last pull from pinching the straps by your index fingers and thumbs makes you let out a soft yelp, D cups granting inches of thickness and no give from what’s on you.


“Ohhhhh… N-no… What’s… What am I…”


Trying to figure out what’s happening to you makes you unable to focus. Does it really matter why it happened? All that’s important is that you’re feeling better than what you have been in a long time.


While protests are burning in your brain processing the event taking place, it doesn’t mean there isn’t something for a better you. How much more dynamic are you in the water with this stronger version of yourself? You let yourself go on for the ride, and breathe gently as a passenger to your body.


Carefully placing your hands under your chest, shaking your head at knowing that’s a new part of you to consider, you feel your stomach tighten with muscle. Your core firms, puffing your ab muscles slightly. A sly grin shows admiration for the unsettling sight, knowing you never got the chance to get a 6-pack on your own. Now, you’re getting there with curious hands feeling the new muscle and fat to keep them protected.


Instilling your body with newfound confidence, you cross your arms around your rugged stomach, gritting your teeth as the changes work out your backside.


Not having much of a butt due to being as scrawny as you remember, feeling your swimwear ride up over the posterior isn’t registered as being unsettling. Right now, the transformation is described as a net positive as the developing body progresses toward your back. Expanding flesh pushes against the suit, and you feel the soft skin squeeze against the rubbery cover made to hold you inside of it.


The feeling is wonderful as your back puffs out with fat and muscle. Being tired in an hour doesn’t seem likely with this stronger lady bod holding you up higher. Big nostrils take in big gusts of air, filling immense lungs, growing from a dragged out inhale. Were your lungs always that small and weak? Holding in a breath makes you think about enjoying the water.


You used to struggle with a nervous 2 minutes. As you count down all 120 seconds without struggling to breathe, you check to see how long you can hold.


3 minutes of held breath, and you move those stronger legs deeper to the water. Hands sliding to your hips, feels majestic in your grip, admiring the way your body inches closer to your dream of being in shape. Chubby fingers, lengthening with larger hands, supported with longer thicker arms, curvy and toned, are more sensitive to the water.


The time held is now 4 minutes, which eventually reaches 5 as going for air isn’t important. Soft exhales from your nose are silent, able to feel your lungs support you better. Questions that held you back, before the changes and during it don’t seem to come up as being a life or death situation. The water is up to your neck now, feeling like claiming you as one of its children where you belong.


6 minutes brings your head into the water, feet still able to step with being barely able to stay level as the warming ocean feels welcoming.


The water has more presents to share with you. Longer eyelashes grow out from your eyes, growing a pale violet and fitting for a unique person like yourself. Nails on fingers and toes match this lilac, being quite waterproof as you look down at yourself. Cheeks puff out, and soft hums of releasing air bubbles sound higher to your ears. A more lady-like tone sounds correct as a swimmer like yourself is absolutely perfect in her body.


Hold on, aren’t you a he? Trying to picture yourself as yourself, feels as far away as the swim trunks abandoned on shore. The weaker guy couldn’t hold his breath for barely 2 minutes. Staring at a stopwatch with dread in high school and college swim meets, only made despair with being unable to qualify. Fit, but not quite at a competitive level. Where are you now?


7 minutes and submerged, you grin as a wide nose releases more bubbles, feeling peaceful just floating away from the beach. These meet folks that once rejected you would be begging for you to be a part of their races.


Lighter hair darkens out of the morning rays, pushing out longer, well outward past your shoulders. Wavy black hair contrasting against your tanned skin, isn’t a concern to be worried about. Seeing this, with eyes that can better handle the salt water, you drift into the current without much worry.


The 5’ 6 swimmer is now a 6’ athlete that could be a lifeguard or make the Olympics easy. No longer limited by the fragile form a short time ago, only the water awaits without fear.


That’s when one fear scrambles your ambition.


Isn’t the world record for a woman to hold her breath underwater, about 8 minutes?


Lost count of your time in the drink, you gasp out a deep breath, the great new lungs requiring air to fill them up again.


The back of your ears tingle, and you feel soft ridges fold open. A hand touches both of these membranes, and another breath is taken. You should be coughing and, you know, drowning at a time like this. What you’re doing is impossible!


Impossible for a human, anyway. Fish and other aquatic life have gills: portions of skin with tiny blood vessels called capillaries that soak oxygen in the water like a sponge. Bubbles of carbon dioxide escape your nose, and purple eyes look troubled.


Becoming a lady is one thing, as strong and robust as you are now. A basic need to breathe air like every other human is normal enough. You’re not held back by this requirement anymore.


Deep breaths are done underwater, feeling no pressure or discomfort in doing so.


Buoyancy isn’t an issue either, as feet wiggle from stronger legs, finding it easy to adjust where you are. Feeling the water push away from you with every stroke of a leg, gets easier the more you do it. Thick rubbery skin web up your toes to a warm membrane. Hands with gentle strokes inside the water mitten up in a similar way to better push water.


Any indication of worrying about yourself in the water, is nudged deep into a part of your mind. Don’t worry about how you’re better suited to live better where it’s wetter. The water has been your friend before, is the same now, and always will be.


The gifts of your triumphant and powerful friend, only increase as your skin starts to match the great blues of the seas in mind. Tanned skin glows with bioluminescence, mimicking the glowing trait of certain subterranean fish. They bring your skin to many blues, before cooling in a soft sky blue color. Least, for most of you. The top of your limbs, your back, face, the parts of your legs not touching together, and the tops of your feet have this wonderous color. Spots of darker blue decorate your hips, shoulders, forearms, and shins to colorful moles, as do other accented points on your body. Tiny dark blue spots freckle the top of hands and feet, as if anything would be covering them anymore. Under your chin, neckline, belly, inner legs, and soles, match the dynamic creme swimsuit that’s absolutely yours at this point. Grinning at the webbing being creme colored too, glee washes over you. These colors fit you perfectly, don't they?


There’s more in store as you feel your ears tingle, gills from the area holding steadfast. Hearing sounds as your ears travel away from where they should be, you hear soft pops as stronger inner ear walls form and tiny bones strengthen, bolstering underwater equilibrium better than human ears. Confidence surges to submerge deeper from where you are, without a SCUBA suit to help with the effects of diving or worry about a pesky air tank strapped to your back. Given the chance to go under water on top of swimming over it, would there be places that only pokémon dare to tread? Twitching thick blue curls grow over your improved ears, giving the look of blue skinned cinnamon rolls attached to the back of your head. Flat teeth bite anxiously to your lip as these advancements take place, hearing the soothing water all around you.


Damn it, why couldn’t you be improved like this sooner?


While trying to think about how being on dry land was tolerable, all that comes to mind is the refreshing feeling of submerging in the ocean. Pesky thoughts like getting home, and calling someone who knows what’s happening to you are moving away from your focus. You’re getting what you wanted as a work in progress.


Dull cracks break through on your forehead, letting go of lip nibbles to look between your eyes. Something’s growing out of you, as blue as your skin. Grinning and gritting teeth, a horn emerges from your forehead, knobby and only a few inches long. A new line of thinking becomes more important as the horn makes you question your identity.


Wouldn’t you be able to transport people so easily on your broad back? A Lapras needs her shell for humans to sit on.


New mass expands over your back, bulging the swimsuit with its wide girth. From the top of your shoulders, a protrusion of gray forms, confirming what’s missing from you. The bulge rides downward, stretching the suit past what should be fitting, with a shell covering your back in a great hill of calcium carbonate. Layered like an eggshell that’s way too thick, the exoskeleton is dense to support any weight upon it and resilient for damage above sea level and water pressure below it. You nod as you see it grow a foot past your arms on each side, creating a shell 4’ wide, 4’ long, and 3’ thick. Many knobs of gray like your horn break out of the elegant dome, granting many points of safely climbing on. A thick tail the size of one of your large hands slips out under it, blue on top and cream below it. It took some effort before your tail could start to move, and you start to see why.


Many creme fragments slip away from your body, the suit unable to hold back your shell. That’s fine for you, as humans get so bent out of shape with how they are dressed. You have no need to be ashamed, knowing exactly what you are now as a Lapras Pokehybrid. All this new power begs for a field test.


Flipper-like feet and strengthened legs propel you to the surface, wishing for real air to breathe free. A liberating gasp of normal air is loud and strong to your semi-aquatic lungs.


“LaaaaAAAAAAAHHHHHHH~!” The water type pokémon slurring from your breath declares her new self. Free of the constraints of humanity, former frailty, and worrying about what others think, it’s time to do something you couldn’t do before.


You spy the other islands outside of Cinnabar to the horizon. The Sevii Islands are usually restricted to trainers with special passes, but not to you. No one is going to stop the best swimmer of the Kanto region from getting wherever you may go.


Breaking through waves like they are not exactly there, controlled kicks and a rapid breast stroke, keep your shell out to the world as you swim past islands quickly. The wind in your hair is a flag to show anyone watching to get ready for you! Passing by the docks of your native Cinnabar Island, you figure you’re faster than the municipal ferry leading a select few to these private waters.


Skimming a series of islands feels as easy as walking around. No, even easier. As easy as breathing. No ounce of fatigue is felt for swimming as far as your eyes can see.


There’s 7 islands that are complete with Pokémon Centers, each with a small number of people on each. What did the tour guide tell you before, about 200 people combined in the archipelago? Most of these people seemed to be asleep right now, unfortunately.


Plenty of the water monster Krabby roamed, but the 5th island had a Gyrados, the sea dragon pokémon with the same colors as you, stare like you have many heads. Never seen a Lapras it seems, and gave you no trouble swimming around them quickly.


You run past Navel Rock between the 4th and 5th Sevii Island, the supposed resting place of legendary pokémon. It is supposed to house both Lugia, the snow white water dragon in its lower caves and Ho-Oh the rainbow feathered avian on top of it. All that’s there is a snoozing fisherman who fell asleep, slumped on a lawn chair, on the dock to the island with no bait in his fishing line’s hook.


Uneventful in the early morning, you sigh in boredom before it’s time to go to the island far to the distance.


While approaching the last island, its raised triangular shape draws you towards it. Whispers of finding the elusive alien pokémon called Deoxys is possible there, but that’s not your reason to approach it.


Birth Island is only a few clicks away. In what feels like little effort, you reach the dock at the southern side towards the ocean. After this island, international waters are all that you find the further south you go. Moving to lean against one of the large wooden poles that root the dock to the ground, your heart starts to pump rapidly.


“Praaaaas… W-what’s come over me,” you say, in a higher voice than you remember, bold in inflection while trying to feel what’s going on. “It’s not from swimming… What’s so…”


Trying to figure out why this is the case, you feel the need to not be topside. Glaring down at the deep waters below, the answer lies getting lower, and finding the reason you decided to come to this spot.


Bubbles run past your nose, slowing down as your body adjusts to water mode, getting air from the water around you. Gills from the sides of your head and cheeks flex open and close, not needing your mouth open to go towards the bottom. A good minute of dropping below sea level, and you feel pressure from your body working as hard as when you were swimming from your fragile past.


Divers usually need specialized training in order to handle depths reaching more than 60’ (18m). The thought of getting Deep Diving training was something you wanted to do, as a reward for getting in shape to compete for swim teams.


Nostalgia brings back the former self, just for a little while, enough to show how your commitment had a little treat for something you would have done anyhow. Soon, the dream of a simpler self and form fades, while the waters aren’t as clear as they look. Cloudy is your vision, tunneling to the center of your sight.


You dove too quickly for your body to adjust to the depths, and are feeling dizzy.


Fortunately, the gifts of the sea are not done with you. Not yet.


Adjusting to require far more strength than even your hybrid self bore, it starts with your stomach feeling heavy.


Favoring your belly, arms holding yourself in this tender spot, it becomes perfectly clear as your chiseled chest starts to round out, growing. Shouting to the waters only brings large bubbles to float towards the surface. Eyeing the swelling taking place, you worry if you are somehow making yourself produce eggs! Relief is printed on your face with a bubbly sigh as there isn’t the indentation of many rounded eggs filling inside your stomach.


No, instead are very familiar things that you can clearly identify. In the walls of your body, you see thighs flexing inside of this spot. Knees strain against your stretching skin, feeling pressure but not pain. Once you see a pair of soles press against the skin, it’s all become abundantly clear.


Legs are forming inside of your body.


With a torrent of bubbles emerging from your wide open mouth, releasing a deep sea Bubble Beam attack, the pressure in your stomach gives way. The release of new legs jut from the sides of your rib cage as new thighs press against each other above your belly, flexing and moving wildly as they grow. At first they seem to be just like your normal legs, with the Lapras colors and painted lilac toenails, but that’s not the secret to them.


Your body heeds your call for more strength, and it is answered by a mutation of a new pair of limbs, growing longer as they test the waters, thickening and turning to be dramatically bigger than what was a short while ago. Running down along your current legs, maintaining buoyancy of this depth in gentle kicking, you find them hard to use while your brain rewires them as being normal, awkward as they may be in their changes out of you. Twice as thick, long, and strong, you find yourself tilting backwards while trying to get control of them.


Looking at the additions made, you wonder why you wait patiently to look at these limbs, instead of making a break for the surface. All of this is wrong, but your vision starts to clear while testing the new legs as you need to float upright. If more legs can be the quick fix to get to the best you that you can be, then so be it.


Silently accepting the changes as being required, more is given to help support them. This makes you hang limp as the changes have you breathing. Gills still work, but the rest of you pops more than a bored mail department clerk popping bubble wrap.


You used to enjoy that in your day job, but things about you aren’t merely adjusting - they’re renovating to something new.


The shell on your back starts to move out of being on your shoulders. Running along your back, that movement doesn’t cease as you feel the shell going back further. Legs shift while knitting muscles and bone grow to bend out of your rump, dragging your tail and legs to follow it. The lower back spreads out to a wider stance than your hips once had, letting the new legs shift below your belly as your normal legs move further and further away from the rest of you. Tight muscles emerge from your lower - now that you’re able to realize it is lower - chest with vigor coming from them. Front legs move swiftly, functioning for powerful propulsion. Back legs wiggle gently as if able to steer the unique creature that you are. Commanded by your legs and overgrown feet, you wonder why this feels familiar as the changes are going on.


It dawns on you. The flippers of a Lapras are massive in front, and smaller in back. Your body is adjusting to this design. While standing on solid ground might look a little funny with longer front legs and shorter rear ones, in the water you’re a force of nature with any kind of swimming that you need to do. More needs to be done, and the gentle pops of change ring louder to sickening snaps.


By your shell slowly dragging along your extended spinal column, it rests right at the center of your new back, able to bring those needing you to hold onto your sides or shoulders, and talk to passengers. Any extra steering can be done with your chubby tail snug above your back butt. All four legs adjust to rest at the sides of both ends of your equine back, being a gentle decline from your front legs to your back ones. It levels out with the water, as new energy is found.


There’s an uplifting feeling from your inner thighs. Familiar red vents open up there, taking in more oxygen from the waters and keeping both energy and focus on a lunatic high. More gills, now having 8 sets, make your eyes perk up, and hone in on somewhere that you need to be. You must go deeper, but how? It’s getting dark down there.


Not able to focus with your eyes, you summon a little help as if knowing you bore the solution to the problem. To help with your descent, the dark blue spots on your body, having more of them with the horse-like bottom half, glow with bioluminescence. A Flash, blinding light technique that some pokémon use to light their way, finds something that isn’t just rock down there. Organic blue glows light the way, aiding to sink further.


Falling in the ocean, four legs and two arms move in sync with one another. Feeling elated as guiding yourself through the water is as easy as drifting off to sleep, it’s automatic while your body moves to a point transfixed since finding that swimsuit, long gone now. Breathing into the ocean, the pressure of the depths doesn't have any negative effects this deep. The light above looks so far away with a quick glance above.


Twice as deep, you manage? Deep Dive SCUBA training only goes as far as 130’ (40m). Past that is military special forces depths, and would need a submersible for most others. Neither of these are a problem for you at this point. You wonder what you can do as reliant and durable as you are.


Thoughts of going through ship salvage can be another career path besides transportation. Still, you could go deeper, but something grants you a moment of relief and rest to see what you found.


Embedded to the Earth, a clear tube rests inside a hole that seems to be made just for it. Wondrous eyes glow in it’s dim reflection, and you take a gentle grip to its contents. You pull the oblong capsule out of where you found it. How strange, more clothes just left behind like that! The capsule is about as long as your arm, and sealed well enough to keep the contents dry.


Satisfied with the treasure, and the cost of humanity, the ascent above isn’t nearly as important as the mad rush to be sinking.


You don’t surface for some time, having lost the drive to hunt. Does it matter that you emerge at the middle of the day? Back to the shore you started your journey from, strong legs make big steps for your lower half to crawl along your stomach. There’s many faces looking and gasping as you giggle, not expecting you to get something you left waiting.


So many eyes! You’re not nearly as timid as before. You turn to wave at folks, clutching your underwater find in one arm, a free hand waving to the people.


“Hiiiiii! Laaaapraaaaasss…” You coo. “So nice to see folks wanting a ride from me. Not yet, though! Please wait for me, ‘kay?”


Without anyone trying to consider stopping you, a hand retrieves the older, faded shorts from before, repositioned where the cream suit that started this adventure rested on. Did the wind pick it up, or did someone make sure to keep it safe?


A large hand reaches out between the split palm tree and grabs the small shorts. Temporarily abandoned, it’s back where it should be, with you.


Thoughts of what you were, linger on of trying so hard and not getting any better as a swimmer. Human limitations? Or just bad luck? Times were a struggle then. Nuzzling the shorts, a few hours feels like a few years have gone by. Born anew, with your memories of the shorts and how dull the color has come, are worthy to keep close.


Slipping back towards the water, you manage to tie the shorts to your free arm, kept as a reminder of what you once were.


One last look to the people wondering where you came from, and a gentle smile is the last they see before you go off to find a secluded spot to call your own.


Old residual memories cling on. Such things are a comfort. Now being absolutely athletic and gorgeous, now it’s time to find what exactly is in that darned tube!



We now bring you some news off the coast of Cinnabar Island in the Kanto region.


Reports of a tall, massive Lapras Pokémon Hybrid have been hitting video sharing sites since this morning: stark naked, as if she came from the water!


Apparently she came in, crawling on four legs, still distinctly human-like and moving along the sand like a Krabby. Hybrid experts call her a humantaur, as she stands on two legs in front at 9’ tall, a shell about 4’ wide and long, then on smaller legs at 6’ tall. Quite a rarity for a Hybrid.


She was staring at a blue pair of shorts like it was a lost lover! Grabbing that in one hand while holding a sealed shipping tube with other clothes, she smiled for the phones that took notice of her before moving back into the water.


In related news, there’s been a lost aspiring swimmer who might have seen her. Whereabouts are unknown at this time, but locals talk about a male missing since the Lapras encounter.


The PoKéHybrid Trainers have been notified and are investigating this matter with utmost importance, like the Queen of the Forest Ninetales some time ago.


As the story develops, we at PokeNews 6 will be the first to let you know!

Written by PoKeHybridTrainer on 10 April 2022

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