Erin stomped through the bleach-white doors of Professor Chronal's private lab and into a room that was just as unnaturally white, helping the door to close by slamming it into place. "I'm sick of it!" she screamed. "I'm sick of everything about this stupid place! These stupid people and their stupid training tactics: I can't take any more of it!" Erin continued to yell as she set her book bag down hard on the only clean surface in the lab.

The professor hurried around the corner with a test tube in one hand and goggles over his eyes. "What's wrong?" he asked, worried.

Erin looked up at him, the anger leaving her fiery eyes, and sat with a huff into a chair that matched the color of the rest of the room. Her head felt suddenly heavy and she rested it on her hands. "Why do we have to come to these pompous schools to become a trainer?" was her reply.

Not believing for a second this was the center of Erin's problem, Chronal answered anyway. "Well, to be a capable trainer, you have to know about pokemon, and you go to schools to learn."

"That's not a good answer," Erin said into her hands. "Earlier trainers didn't have to go to a school. They started training with a pokemon when they reached the age of ten. How else would Ash have beaten every known Master at nineteen?" Then she looked up at the professor as he set down the test tube and lifted the goggles from his vision. "Prof, did you ever want to be pokemon trainer?" she asked him.

"Humph," he gruffed. "Me? No. I knew I didn't have it in me to train a pokemon. It would be too much trouble to try and get something with a mind of its own to obey my commands. I much prefer chemicals that do exactly what I tell them to do. Now," he continued. "What is the real reason that you're upset?"

When Erin brows scrunched in anger once more and she looked at the ground in deep thought, Chronal knew it must be something serious. "They expelled me," she replied in a monotone voice.

Chronal, however was not so calm. "What!" he yelled in surprise. "Whatever for?" But as soon as the words were out of his mouth Chronal knew that Erin must have been fighting again. She still had two years until she graduated, but Erin was the best martial artist in the school. When a young student was being pushed around by those about to graduate, Erin was often seen in the middle breaking up the dispute with her kicks and punches. It was never serious enough to risk expulsion, so Chronal wondered what she could have done this time.

"All right," she began. "Today some alumni came back. He said it was to check up on how the school was going and crap like that, but of course it was only to show off his pokemon. I don't know what his name is, but he was one of the better members of the swim team until he graduated two years ago. He left with a poliwag and it didn't evolve into a poliwhirl until a few weeks ago. Sure, that's impressive now, but just think about it Professor," she said, looking at him. "Actually think about it: two whole years to get a single pokemon to evolve. That's crap."

"So what happened to get you expelled?" the Professor asked.

"Well, he was showing off his poliwhirl to anyone who would watch for a long time, and he began to get tired and not 'perform' as well as his trainer wanted him too, so the trainer started yelling at him and when he still didn't get better, the kid kicked him. I couldn't watch it, so I told him to stop, and then he tried to push me out of the way and I kicked him in the stomach. Needless to say when he tried to beat me up I had to defend myself. He ended up in the nurse's office, but he'll live." Erin looked back down at the floor and spoke again, though softer. "I just couldn't watch him beat up his pokemon when it was doing its best. And now I won't get one ever." A single tear emerged from the corner of her eye.

Chronal never did like to see children unhappy, and Erin was his favorite student at the school. He made up his mind and walked over to a cluttered shelf and picked something up that was wrapped in a gray cloth. He opened it up to reveal a flat red device. "Look at this Erin. I found an extremely old one and built a new one, transferring all the information." Erin's natural curiosity took hold and she stood up to get a better view. "Despite all we know about pokemon, so much has been lost over the years, but with the information stored in the one I found I was able to-"

"Professor," said Erin, interrupting him. "Is that a…a pokedex?" she asked hesitantly.

"Yes!" answered Chronal excitedly. "And the one that I found had so much information on it about pokemon on it that I believe it must have been Ketchum's. And now all that information is on this, plus all the new things we have learned over the years. Pokemon whose records have been lost and ones we never even knew existed. It's amazing, and I, um," he hesitated at this point. "I want you to have it, Erin."

"What!" she said, surprised. "Why? Don't you need it?"

"No, I've already copied the information to a disk so I will be able to create more if need be, but since you have to leave and you don't have a pokemon…I wanted you to have something at least."

"Thanks, Professor," Erin said, straitening up. "You always were the coolest person here. I don't know how I would have survived if I wasn't allowed to hide in here when the teachers came after me." She wasn't the least bit sad that she would have to leave the academy, but the thought of never gaining a pokemon was devastating to her. She attempted to laugh it off, however: "Heh, maybe it's best I leave. They probably would have stuck me with a machop anyway. Even though I like fighting, a machop is not the pokemon I want."

The next morning, Erin left the academy without a second of hesitation or a single look back, grateful to Professor Chronal for entrusting her with such a precious gift, and hopeful that there would be something else in the would that could fulfill the need that the academy and the teachers there were unable to grasp, Erin set out.