For many years, Pokemon followed a tried-and-true rhythm. You wake up in your quiet hometown, pick one of three adorable starter Pokemon, challenge eight gyms scattered across the region, face off against a criminal organization with dreams of domination or enforcing ideals, and finally take on the Elite Four to cement your place as the champion.
Along the way, you teach your Pokemon a bunch of Hidden Machines, also known as HMs, like Cut and Surf, because the game won’t let you progress without them. And to be fair, this formula worked. It was comfortable and familiar. But comfort can become stagnation.
Then came Pokemon Sun and Moon, the Generation VII titles that dared to disrupt the very foundation of what a Pokemon adventure had always been.
Released in 2016 for the Nintendo 3DS, Pokemon Sun and Moon marked the franchise’s entry into its seventh generation. With 81 new Pokemon, a tropical setting, and a sales figure that topped 16.33 million copies, it’s safe to say these games made a splash.
But beyond the numbers and new faces, the Generation VII games introduced something even more radical: a completely new way to play Pokemon. This wasn’t just another region with badges and HMs. This was Alola. And in Alola, everything was different.
The story progression in the Alolan games immediately set them apart. Gone were the standard gym leaders and the badge-collecting journey. In their place came the Island Challenge. You didn’t just walk into a building and battle a type specialist.
No, you faced down Totem Pokemon, massive beasts glowing with aura, who could call allies mid-battle and turn a one-on-one duel into a chaotic two-against-one. This approach felt wild, almost primal.
It traded the predictable pacing of gym challenges for something more adventurous and raw. You had to prove yourself not through standardized tests, but by impressing the Island Kahunas and completing the traditional rites. It was as if Pokemon had stripped off its blazer and tie and gone barefoot into the jungle.
Even the villainy in Sun and Moon came in layers. At first, you deal with Team Skull, a group of dropouts and misfits more interested in stealing Pokemon and goofing around than world domination. They’re not particularly threatening, but they’re oddly relatable. Their struggles feel grounded, even human.
But then the curtain lifts and you meet the Aether Foundation, a seemingly benevolent organization dedicated to Pokemon protection and conservation. Only, they’re not as altruistic as they claim to be. Behind their sterile walls and friendly PR lies a dark obsession with Ultra Beasts, extradimensional Pokemon with alien designs and eerie backstories.
This dual-tier villain structure was a first for the series. It began with a mundane rebellion and spiraled into cosmic horror. The shift was unexpected, and it was brilliant.
Another groundbreaking change was the complete removal of HMs. For two decades, these moves were essential: Surf to cross water, Cut to slash trees, Strength to move boulders.
But they also cluttered your team with unwanted moves. Sun and Moon finally let players build the perfect squad without worrying about who needed to carry Fly or Rock Smash.
Instead, you summoned rideable Pokemon like Tauros to break rocks or Charizard to fly across the map. It was smoother and more convenient. Of course, it came at a price. These Pokemon felt more like tools than partners. You didn’t bond with your rideable Mudsdale, you just whistled and used it.
Still, it was a step toward modernity. A cleaner, sleeker Pokemon experience.
The spirit of reinvention didn’t stop there. Pokemon Sun and Moon introduced Regional Variants for the first time. Old favorites returned with new typings, designs, and lore tailored to Alola’s unique climate and culture.
Exeggutor now had a 30-foot neck and a Dragon typing. Vulpix became an Ice-type cutie, cloaked in frost instead of flame. Meowth turned sassy and smug with a Dark typing.
These weren’t just palette swaps, they were clever reinterpretations that breathed new life into forgotten Pokemon. Suddenly, the old became new again. Nostalgia is now rocking tan and rose-colored sunglasses.
Despite the tropical, vacation-y aesthetic, Pokemon Sun and Moon also leaned into a darker tone. The villainous arc involving Lusamine, the president of the Aether Foundation, touched on themes of obsession, emotional trauma, and parental control.
Her descent into madness and her unhealthy relationship with her daughter Lillie added emotional weight rarely seen in the franchise.
And then there were the mysterious Ultra Beasts, creatures so bizarre and otherworldly that they barely felt like Pokemon at all.
Their lore was strange, even disturbing, and the fact that they began invading Alola only heightened the tension. Imagine Pokemon was co-created by HP Lovecraft.
Yet, once again, it was up to you, the eternally ten-year-old protagonist, to step up and save the day.
Then came Pokemon Ultra Sun and Ultra Moon, enhanced versions released a year later. These weren’t mere rehashes with minor tweaks. They expanded the storyline, added new Ultra Beasts, introduced the Ultra Recon Squad, and deepened the lore of Necrozma.
The games even offered a new dimension-hopping mode, allowing players to travel to different worlds. While some players debated whether these were truly necessary upgrades, they undeniably built upon the experimental spirit of Sun and Moon, pushing the envelope even further.
Looking back, Pokemon Sun and Moon were bold and experimental. They weren’t perfect, but they were brave. They traded badges for trials, gyms for jungles, and formulas for freedom.
They reimagined villains, rethought movement, and reintroduced old Pokemon in refreshing new forms. In doing so, they delivered something that felt like a fusion of tradition, wilderness, and innovation. This wasn’t just a new generation. It was an attempt at a new identity.
As long-time fans, we can only hope that Game Freak remembers the lessons we learned in Alola. Whether it’s through a remake that brings the Island Challenge to modern hardware or a brand-new region that captures that same sense of raw, wild adventure, we’re eager to return.
Let us roam sun-drenched trails and moon-bathed roads once more, face down towering Totems, and let our Pokemon out not just to fight, but to explore. In a franchise that sometimes leans too heavily on routine, Sun and Moon reminded us how exciting it can be to shake things up.