Ex Exe | Pokemon Raptor

Its sprite was wrong. It didn't face the opponent; it faced you , the player. Its beak was hooked like a rusted blade, and dark pixels dripped from its talons.

You wandered into the tall grass. A wild Pidgey appeared. “Wild PIDGEY is terrified!” the text box read.The Pidgey didn’t attack. It tried to flee, but the game prompted: “EXE won’t let it leave.”

You selected "Sky Attack."The screen didn't flash white. It flashed a deep, bruised purple. There was no fainting animation. The Pidgey’s sprite simply shattered into red fragments that lingered on the battlefield. “EXE is still hungry,” the screen whispered. Pokemon Raptor Ex Exe

The Fearow sprite grew, filling the entire screen until only its red, unblinking eyes remained. The console vibrated violently in your hands. A high-pitched screech tore through the speakers—not a Pokémon cry, but a human scream processed through an 8-bit filter. The screen went black.

The title screen didn't show Ho-Oh or Lugia. Instead, it was a silhouette of a Fearow, its wings shredded into digital ribbons, eyes glowing a flat, crystalline red. The music was a slowed-down, distorted version of the Lavender Town theme, pulsing with a heartbeat-like bass that made your thumbs twitch. You pressed Start. Its sprite was wrong

The game began in an empty version of Pallet Town. No NPCs, no music—just the crunch of footsteps on grass. In your party, there was only one Pokémon: a Level 100 Fearow named .

The screen flickered, a jagged tear of static cutting through the familiar GameBoy Color startup chime. You shouldn’t have bought a cartridge with "RAPTOR" scrawled in Sharpie from a flea market bin, but the curiosity was a heavy weight in your chest. You wandered into the tall grass

Suddenly, the game forced a warp. You were in the Hall of Fame, but the statues were cracked. Standing at the end was the Rival, his back turned. When you approached, he didn't trigger a battle. He spoke in a text box that scrolled too fast to read, except for the final line: