"What's a Pikachu? Well, I can't say it's your fault, can I? Well, um… it's a little mouse, kind of like a Rattata, that shot lightn- Rattata? Oh, it's a mouse, short, little guy. Anyway, they used to be around, seventy years ago. Yes, it was quite a time. Humans from all over would set out on journeys to see creatures like these around the world. There were tons of them. Almost seven hundred different kinds, each more amazing than the last. I had a few once, and they were taken from me. Yes, when feral Pokemon started to appear, those were tough times. Pokemon hunting was legalized, and almost every business started to profit using the remains of Pokemon. Yes, people would eat sandwiches made from cow Pokemon, and some cat types and dog types were used for the fur. Oh, awful times. Eventually, they were hunted to extinction. That's when people got the idea of that armor; without Pokemon, life was dull. There was no thrill of battle. Everything was mundane. But suddenly, Silph Co. invented that armor those boys are wearing, and the thrill of battle can live on."
The young boy looked up at his grandfather's eyes, which were fixated on one such battle taking place outside. Following his line of sight, he saw a teenage boy with armor that glistened in the sunlight, pure black. His opponent, starting to lose his breath, was in very different armor. It had spikes all over it, for one. There was a large horn protruding from his forehead. As the black-armored boy ran toward him, he dodged a quick slash, and immediately countered by ramming his head straight into his opponent's chest. The boy in the black fell quickly, and his armor crashed against the pavement.
"I guess that makes it three wins in a row, doesn't it?" asked the victor.
"Apparently so" remarked the loser, stunned at his defeat, "What in the world was that last attack? It's new."
"I call it Zen Headbutt" replied the spiked boy, "And with your armor being half-poison, it was a great inclusion."
The boy's grandfather stood up. "Nice battle, boys." He shouted. "However, you, in the Gengar armor, you should have used a Shadow Ball. Keep him at a distance. Nidorino has no moves that can hit from far away."
The boy in Gengar armor stood up swiftly. "Thank you, sir. I have to go now, though. I'm really not supposed to be battling." After that, he ran off, keeping the headpiece of his armor on, as to avoid being recognized. The old man nodded, and the boy with the Nidorino armor ran in the opposite direction.
The old man looked up to the sky, smiling, knowingly. Something told him an adventure like no other was about to start.