 Cast your mind back to the world before the internet. Well, not really before the internet, but rather to before you were old and tech savvy enough to use this wondrous tool to suck all the fun out of Pokémon. Remember what it was like when you first discovered the world of Pocket Monsters, when every episode of the cartoon series introduced you to a wonderful new friend, when peeling back the foil on a fresh packet of cards brought 10 or 11 tiny slices of beautiful artwork and the excitement of discovering a shiny new rarity to add to your collection. Rumours circulated on the playground about how to catch them all. Depending on the era in which you first became aware of Pokémon, you might have heard of a secret truck near the SS Anne, or of the all-powerful Poker Gods, or of Picablu or Missingno. You might have heard that there was some way to blast into space to capture deoxys, or that a strange creature named Rotom lived in an abandoned mansion. Some of these rumours were true, and some were not. It didn't necessarily matter. They all fed the urban myths surrounding the game series, and made the world of Pokémon feel tangible and immediate. Who knew what lurked out there in the wild woods and fields? All you could be certain of was that there were plenty more mysteries to be uncovered. But then, you became aware of the Internet, and suddenly, that which was once obscure and uncertain became disappointingly concrete. The creators of Pokémon have always found it difficult to keep up with the Internet. They've always tried their best to inject a sense of uncertainty into their games, but alas, the world's largest information network is just too good at spreading knowledge. Even, and indeed especially, knowledge that is far better left unspoiled. Maybe a Pokémon is only available at certain times of the day, or on certain days of the week. Maybe it's only present on select randomly chosen tiles within the overworld, its location inexplicably tied to a trendy phrase that's been picked up by islanders who live on the other side of the world. Or maybe a Pokémon isn't present in the game at all, and can only be obtained through a special download event. No matter what, earnest Pokémoniacs find these hidden secrets. They pour through the game's code, unlocking all its wonders, so that a week or so after the release of any main series Pokémon game, it's possible to visit Bulbapedia and learn everything you ever wanted to know, and more, about what secrets await you in a particular game. If you're anything like me, then at first you might have found the Internet to be a very useful tool, before eventually getting tired of just how boring it makes the process of Pokémon hunting. Especially when, in order to keep up with the Internet's ability to unpack and scrutinize the Pokémon world, Game Freak has simply resorted to making Pokémon training more tedious. I honestly think that the world would be a better place if nobody understood what an IV or an EV was, or how Pokéball capture rates worked. But then comes Meltan, and for the first time in decades I am genuinely filled with a childhood sense of wonder and curiosity about what's coming next. Many Pokémon have been introduced to us in an unorthodox fashion, particularly through the anime series. If you're old enough to remember the first season of the show when it was new, you were aware of Togepi long before the Pokémon was ever available to catch and train within a game. The same goes for Ho'oh and Snubble, and the amazing scene at the start of the first movie, in which Bulbasaur fights a Dom fan, and we all shouted in the excitement of seeing such a cool new Pokémon in action. Then there was Bonsly, who appeared in a cameo role in Pokémon XD, Gale of Darkness, a generation before it could be caught in a game. These fun Pokémon reveals have always caught the public imagination, because they help to hint at an even larger world that is still full of mystery. But Meltan is something new. For the first time ever, Pokémon trainers stumbled upon a mysterious creature that had no name and no explanation. What was this thing? Was it a glitch like missing, no? Or a brand new pocket monster that had yet to be revealed? Eventually it was revealed that Meltan was here to stay, and suddenly a series of urban legends became canon. It was one of those rare moments in gaming where fan theories actually proved to be true. I love this. I love that Pokémon Go is such a fantastic breeding ground for these kinds of stories. Back when Pokémon Go first arrived, we all rushed around outside, eager to catch as many Pokémon as we could. But nobody involved with the game seemed particularly interested in explaining what we had to do. I remember rushing to a park with a friend, trying to figure out how to even trigger a Pokémon encounter, unable to even understand how to interpret the information on the screen before me. What did these footprints mean? Where did I need to go? What were Poker stops? And how was I supposed to interact with them? Pokémon Go's design back then was frustrating in its obscure vagary, but it also helped to create a sense of wonder and awe. Fellow players would share tips and tricks about how to find certain creatures, both online and in the real world. If you had just spotted a rare Clefairy, you'd tell random strangers where to go in order to find one for themselves. I am so pleased that this sense of mystery is returning to Pokémon. The benefit of an MMO that's set in this world is that new mystery elements can be added with each update, so we don't instantly learn everything about a game five minutes after its release. This means that Niantic can slip a new Pokémon like Meltan in without anyone being any the wiser until the specific time in which it's meant to be revealed. Now, I'll be honest, I don't play Pokémon Go anymore. Our household enjoyed one wonderful summer playing the game. It really was the highlight of the otherwise miserable 2016. But eventually, we put it down and didn't return. Part of this was because the weather got cold, but more importantly though, I'd burnt through my phone battery so fast so often that it was starting to get a lot less use from every charge. I just couldn't justify wearing out my device in the hopes of catching a Pikachu, which I never actually managed. Also, I accidentally mulched my prize lapras into candy. I'll never forget you, Ludo. Sleep well, sweet prince. That said, just as I've never played much Eve online, but I enjoy hearing the stories of player exploits, I consider Pokémon Go to be a fantastic spectator sport. I love hearing rumours and secrets and urban myths that spring up around the game, and the mystery surrounding Meltan was particularly exciting. I can only hope that Game Freak continues to use the game to bring us new innovations within the Pokémon world. These kinds of cultural talking points are what makes the game feel surprising and genuinely immersive. Because, for better or worse, we all live in a Pokémon world. You or I will never be the greatest master of them all, the greatest master. But nonetheless, it's fun to try. Urban myths like Meltan are what makes this quest truly worth the effort.