A cave deep in Mt. Silver, June 23rd, 2009.
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He stood, thinking of times past.
So much had happened. So many friends, so many battles.... all the pokemon he saw. Had it really been thirteen years since he first set out? He was only twenty-five, but felt like he was fifty.
He had seen many new things and advances in the world of pokemon training and catching in his short life. He had, even at the young age of twelve, scored well in the Kanto League. Swept through Orange Islands, did excellently in Johto and Hoenn.... years passed, his skill increased...began to become victor and first place in nearly anything he entered. Finally, three years ago he went back to Kanto and won the international Indigo League, and became World Champion in addition to the dozen national leagues and tournaments held in different countries. No one could beat him.
He had become extremely famous before that. He had personally defeated and overthrown Team Rocket for the first time in its history. He had fought Giovanni to a standstill and watched him retreat into the shadows, never to this day seen again. People realized how good a trainer he was; all his former pokemon came rushing back, wanting to be trained and strengthened further. He gladly obliged. Charizard, Meganium, Heracross, even Haunter back from Saffron, now Gengar.... so many more. All of his pokemon were his friends. Wonderful friends.
A bat flew by, screeching.
Champion.... at what cost? He had become too obsessed with training. He lost her...his love. She always worried for him. She had become shapely and beautiful over time, not at all like the scrawny little girl he first met. Maybe she had taken over again at the gym in her old home of Cerulean. He hoped so.
He had trained dozens of pokemon, all but six resting and training at Oak's lab. ALL of them had grown up, had evolved.... he had released many for services over the years before they returned. Butterfree had mated and produced many descendants. Primeape was a champion fighter. Pidgeot.... had finally killed the Fearow that led terror against so many of his own.
He had left too. He had not been seen personally in the public eye for several years now, becoming half-legend. He had still been sought out successfully many times, of course, which made news...but beaten? Never. The world's finest had lost to him as always.
He left because he needed to train. Oak had still nearly beaten him three years ago to unsuccessfully retain his hours-old championship title. But it was such a wonderful battle! They had regained their old childhood friendship after that, thank the lord.
He looked at Pikachu, who was calmly cleaning himself. His first pokemon, his best friend. He among all his pokemon never evolved to his final form, which turned out to be a blessing. The memories.
Pikachu then instantly stood up alert, ears perked.
His pokemon had heard footsteps, as did he.
A boy entered. He looked to be about thirteen. A black and gold cap, gold shorts, red jacket.
"Y-you're the...." the boy said nervously.
Thoughts roared through the young man's head. This boy.... he had read in a paper this boy took Team Rocket down for good, a second time. Months had passed since then. He had obviously been granted access to Mt. Silver by Professor Oak. Only the finest trainers could be given access.
Did this boy have the gift? The fire he had?
"Yes. I am the Champion. I have heard of you. What is your name?"
"Hiro," the boy said, composing himself.
"It's good to meet you, Hiro. You likely know me...I am Ash Ketchum. I know you are here to battle me-let us commence." The Champion nodded to his friend, said to be among the most powerful and most famous pokemon in history.
" PIKACHU, GO!!!"