Robb moved with all his might, trying desperately to achieve his goal. Sweat was dripping down from his brow, his hair matted with the stuff, and yet, he continued forward. It felt as if the weight of the world rested over his body, and any form of motion made it worse

A single, weak foot trudged forward on the slowly moving belt inside a large vat of pink glowing water. A Chansey and a trio of Happiny cheered for his success from the back of the room, and while Robb had no control over the smile that bloomed on his face at the enthusiasm brought about by the kind Pokemon, he knew it was not enough.

It was a step in the right direction, at least.

Damn, but physical therapy sucked.

"You're doing a good job, Robb!" The physical therapist monitoring him, Dr. Thames, said. He was, ironically, quite the portly man, but he had a vested interest in seeing his patients live good lives, and that was all that could really be asked for in a medical practitioner. "Fantastic!"

"It's not fast enough." Robb ground out, struggling mightily to take another step. He needed to get rid of the atrophy this body had suffered through.

He needed to leave.

Robb didn't know how he got here, honest. One moment, he was dying. The next, he wasn't even in his original body, though his name remained the same. Hell, this world was different. And no matter how hard he tried, after two weeks of struggle, he found couldn't break away from the fact that this was real. This wasn't some hallucination; this wasn't some hoax; this was his life now.

And worse, it used to be somebody else's.

Every time he dreamed, the reality that this was a new existence became clear. His sleep had been plagued by snippets of experiences that he strangely felt familiar with, from the first-person perspective of a boy leading a vastly different life than his own.

One of these snippets in particular stuck out to Robb, in that the boy had been playing tag with his schoolmates and fell down on a sharp rock, leaving a wound on his left hand that required stitches to close, turning into a small scar in the aftermath. Warily, Robb had raised said hand, and indeed saw a thin pale line jutting over the knuckle of his pinky finger. Exactly where the scar in the dream took place.

It was then he knew. With each drift into limbo, he learned more and more of the body he had taken over.

The Robert Stark of this world. The Robert Stark of the world of Pokemon.

That Robert, who Robb would now refer to as Bobby for the sake of an easier transition, truly did not deserve any of the shake he'd gotten. Nobody did. Dying at twelve was a singularly unkind thing. Bobby had spent the past four years of his life progressing in his suffering, starting with intense migraines, leading into small-scale seizures, his body slowly shutting down, and in the end, an undeserved death. His disease was such that he was not able to partake in his journey at the age of 10, as the other kids in his age group were permitted, which brought about depression that made his debilitation even worse.

It was rare that any kid lasted longer than a year in their journey, Robb learned, but it was rarer even that a kid didn't at least give a journey a shot at all. Journeys were looked upon akin to a rite of passage in this world, the start of the shift of a carefree child into a responsible adult. Everybody looked forward to them, young and old alike, and Bobby was no exception.

Born in Violet City and raised in their (obnoxiously well-funded) foster care system, the boy had wanted nothing more than to be a Pokemon trainer, just like his hero Falkner was. It was a common enough dream in this city, shared by at least a few kids every year, and similarly, it was quite common for local gym leaders to take on a semi-hero role for children that attended the local Pokemon Academy. Especially to the kids in foster care, who didn't really have anybody to direct their attention towards. Falkner took his role as a public figure seriously and would visit the Pokemon Academy on a near weekly basis, sharing stories about his own journey and some unique tips and tricks targeted towards Flying type Pokemon. He would even allow the kids to play with some of his Pokemon, the ones with gentler dispositions. He encouraged these kids to go on their own journeys and find their passions, and Bobby was thrilled to do so.

Fortunately, Bobby had been the type of kid that knew what he wanted young and worked towards it without stopping. The admirable sort that kept things realistic and planned out a realistic progression in turn. Nothing like Robb had been, it hurt to admit. Hell, at the age of seven, the kid had started shadowing one of the local security trainers for tips on how to care for his future team.

Well, it was more that Bobby pestered them and peppered them with so many questions that they figured it'd be easier to give in and offer some scraps than let this continue, but still.

Bobby had been prepared.

Sadly, this early preparation became a null point. The migraines started kicking in with increasing severity when Bobby had only really just started trying to get ready for these exams. When the time came for the kids he grew up with to take their exams and go off on their journeys, he was holed away under the careful eye of a medical staff, unable to focus on anything but the throbbing of his skull.

And now, Bobby Stark was gone, unable to even contemplate becoming a trainer. In his place however, was-… Robb still didn't know how he got here. He had a gut feeling that he never would know. But he was here, and he wanted to be worthy of that. He didn't want to be the washed-up slob he'd been in the before. He wanted to be something respectable. Something desirable.

Someone that could only be described as better.

He would begin by honoring the goal of the boy that he'd usurped so unjustly. He would go on a journey, become a Pokemon trainer in Bobby's name, and go from there.

That Robb had the chance to live out his own childish fantasy in the process surely had nothing to do with this decision. It was an entirely honorable gambit, with little ulterior motive to be seen.

Obviously.

Oh come on! He couldn't help it. Yes, what happened to Bobby was horrible, and yes, Robb had every intention to do right by this legacy that had been thrust upon his shoulders. But at the end of the day, this was the world of Pokemon! The (arguably) greatest franchise on Earth! Hell, even as an adult, sad as it was to admit, he'd sometimes go online and watch some episodes of the dubbed anime, reminiscing over the good ol' days. He knew a lot of random information about Pokemon and the world they inhabited, and though he was no pro by any stretch of the word, he felt that he had a good shot at becoming a decent contributor to this society. Better than he was before, that's for sure.

Regardless of reasoning, however, Robb needed to be done with the hell that was physical therapy before he could even contemplate becoming a Pokemon trainer.

"You're going at an exceeded pace already, Robb." Dr. Thames stated. "At this rate, you'll only need another month of these scheduled therapy appointments and two months more of an appropriate nutrition plan before you can start living a comfortable life again."

"That quick?" Robb startled, surprised. Children bounce back from injuries quicker than adults, sure, but the malnutrition and muscular atrophy his new body had been hit with would normally take much longer to settle. Wouldn't it?

Dr. Thames smiled, gesturing to the still cheering Chansey and Happiny. "Pokemon make things far quicker for us simple folk, Robb. With consistent use of the move Heal Pulse, the strain of your exercises can be mended far quicker than normal. That means we can condition you far quicker."

Gotta love some Pokemon shenanigans. They really did make this world go round.

"Will I be strong enough to go on a journey then?" Robb asked, taking another struggling step.

"Hard to say," the doctor admitted, rubbing his chin in thought. "Everybody is different, and my primary goal as a physical therapist is to bring you back to a condition that will let you lead a normal life. Beyond that, though…"

Robb grunted as he slowly took another step, quickly understanding the nuance of that statement. Dr. Thames was basically saying, "I'll get you back to a decent spot, the rest is up to you."

"Give me your gut feeling then," Robb requested. "How long do you think it'd take for me to be able to go on a journey? If I keep up with my pace."

"Hmm… Well, based on the improvement we've been seeing, as well as the way your body has grown to tolerate the Sitrus steroid infused water it has been working with… Three months. Three months at this pace, with our equipment and Pokemon and a strict following of your diet, and you'll be far enough along. Which is actually quite fortunate!" Dr. Thames beamed.

"How so?"

"Because," he said, leaning in conspiratorially. Robb shuddered just a bit. Dr. Thames wasn't a creeper by any stretch, but he'd gotten a bit too close in that lean-in. "The most recent trainers license exam took place exactly three weeks ago. They're offered every six months. That means in exactly five months and one week, you can make your first attempt to get that license. Plenty of time to get back to an adequate starting point and have the chance to hunker down and study for the exam."

Dr. Thames had kindly removed himself from Robb's personal space. "And the hospital is alright with me staying that long?"

"No, that they are not. When you're well enough to walk out of here on your own power, you'll return to your home and will have to settle with pre-scheduled appointments to use our facility. But yes, you'll be permitted to use our equipment. We want you to use it, honestly. I don't think you realize how great of a scare you gave us, nor how great of a miracle it is that you've been able to recover so smoothly after, let alone recover at all. You were lost to us, son. If monitoring your recovery helps us and the other facilities we share information with better understand your condition for the sake of other children that might have similar symptoms, isn't that worth the investment of time?"

Robb understood, and genuinely empathized with this line of thought. However, considering the fantastical nature of his recuperation, he doubted any form of monitoring would be useful.

Still, Robb was happy to give them his attention. Plus, he had a general plan anyway; an exercise regimen and dietary schedule to follow religiously, and an exam deadline to watch out for.

Those he could work with.


Crutches weren't really Robb's favorite thing.

They dug into his armpits awkwardly, were both too big and too small depending on where he tried to go, and somehow accumulated his sweat like nobody's business. The hospital even donated a can of Axew body spray to help mitigate said smell, though now the problem was that he smelled like a middle school locker room. One was certainly better than the other, though Robb was unsure which was which.

But just because crutches weren't his favorite thing didn't mean he didn't appreciate them.

Case in point, with these crutches in pit, Robb was finally able to take in this wonderous new world without the white walls of a hospital hampering his interest.

And damn was Violet City pretty.

Built around a natural riverbend on the lower, forested slopes of a mountain range Robb didn't know the name of, Violet City was as if nature and civilization found a way to perfectly coexist. There were skyscrapers that towered high over the masses, and yet there was no pollution or car troubles. In their place, trolleys and caravans toted by Rapidash, Dodrio, Donphan and other large, bulky Pokemon were the norm. Wild Pokemon too were quite numerous to see, different species milling around different architecture styles seamlessly. In the more modern parts of town were the scavengers, Meowth and Houndour and Rattata and Smeargle and such, whereas in the older, more traditional districts surrounding the famous Sprout Tower were the more human-curious forest dwellers; Bellsprout and Venonat and Oddish and the like.

None of this compared to the sheer scale of Flying type Pokemon loitering the skies, however.

They were everywhere. Perched on power cables and building roofs and window ledges, you couldn't move an inch without one being in your periphery. Pidgey, Pidgeotto, Spearow, Murkrow, Natu, Gligar, Hoothoot, Noctowl, Butterfree; they were out in droves.

Robb saw so many of them that at some points, they felt more common than the clouds overhead. Considering today was a relatively clear day, that observation became all the more evident to him.

Flying type Pokemon, Robb mused. Flying type gym. Guess it makes sense.

"Are you sure you're alright with the crutches?" Mary-Anne Joy asked, matching Robb's slower pace. She carter a folded down wheelchair at her side, ready to be of assistance.

"I'm fine," Robb told the nurse, crutching along a cobble stone path with some difficulty. "The goal is to build muscle anyway, right?"

"Build muscle, not strain muscles." She corrected with a soft-yet-stern lilt.

Which explained why she was there in the first place.

Mary-Anne Joy was familiar to Robb in an almost intimate way. She was the first face he saw when waking up in this world, the Nurse Joy that had been blunter than a damn hammer about his death. He'd not seen her much after his subsequent blackout, but now that he was free from the hospital, at least on a temporary basis, she was apparently going to be a very familiar face.

By that, Robb meant she was essentially going to be his new minder.

Apparently, her flub with him was quite a major to her family's PR. Being the premiere clan of medical practitioners in the world of Pokemon, it was expected that all women bearing the name "Nurse Joy" have what could only be describe as "perfect bedside manner". As essentially all Nurse Joy's are basically raised and trained in Pokemon Centers, when building the necessary qualifications to take over or build their own center franchises, they often gained their bedside training in human oriented hospitals. This also gives them further experience for certain emergency situations. It wasn't uncommon for injured Pokemon to similarly have injured trainers.

The day Robb woke up was the Mary-Anne's second day ever on shift at a human hospital, and though Robb was forgiving of her mistake, her family and the hospital management staff weren't. As punishment for her faux pas against Robb, Mary-Anne was to take on the role of a live-in nurse. Until Robb was given the clean bill of health, he was to be her whole focus, and in the process, she was expected to develop some more professional patient-care mannerisms.

Neither were particularly happy about the arrangement, but Robb felt he got the better deal.

Constant eye candy was always nice, after all.


Robb stared at his reflection in the mirror attached to his door.

He wasn't a bad looking kid. At twelve years old, he actually looked pretty good. His hair was a crown of brown curls, his eyes were grey and flinty, and his skin, while pale, was freckly and alive. He was short for his age, but Dr. Thames said he'd shoot up like a weed pretty soon. Robb was hopeful that that was true. He'd never been tall before.

Shaking his head, Robb turned away from the door and looked around at the room. His room. It was a small thing, barely being eight square feet, but it was his. His walls, painted a soft sky blue, just as he'd asked. His twin bed, nestled primly in the corner with little Magnemite prints. His desk, with a previous generation computer generously donated for his purposes.

For the first time in this life, Robb had a space to call his own.

Robb breathed out, feeling a small weight lift from his shoulders, and sat down on his bed, marveling in the cushy comfort it afforded. He didn't know much about mattress making in Johto, but considering Pokemon were involved in literally every aspect of life, Robb didn't doubt there was some fantastical shenanigans that went on in the making of one of these beds.

Being an orphan anywhere sucked, but if you had to be one, being one in the world of Pokemon was surely the best place to do so.

It was almost unfortunate that this arrangement was temporary. Almost. Certainly, it was nice that he had his own space, and he was thankful that Marry-Anne loaned him her childhood room at the Violet City Pokemon center. But in the end, a nice room in a nice city seemed… wasteful. Robb had been feeling almost claustrophobic, with the way people were always looming over him. He looked forward to being done with it all. Once he received his license, he would become an official ward of the Pokemon League, and go on his journey to determine what role he would play as an adult.

But as far as temporary lodgings went, these ones suited Robb just fine. If only for a very simple reason.

Robb grinned slightly as he turned over, taking in the computer on his desk.

The hospital wouldn't let Robb use a computer. His days, when not sleeping or exercising, were spent lounging in his bed, watching television. It was fascinating, the array of media available. Sports were definitely fun with Pokemon added to the mix, and he'd come to enjoy baseball of all things. More importantly, Robb found his niche watching battles, breeder care specials, wilderness survival guides, and really anything to do with an eventual journey.

But the best thing Robb had seen, by far, was a talk show in which Professor Oak was the main guest.

Professor Oak was a frequent guest on many talk shows. Most regional professors were, really. Their roles, while scientific in nature, were also celebrity, and the media were more than happy to eat up any news coming out of their mouth. Professor Oak in particular appeared to really enjoy appearing as a guest on these types of shows, treating them as an opportunity to share his poetry and meet other superstars in various fields.

This interview had nothing to do with poetry, however. The news that Professor Oak spread during that interview ran through Robb like a wildfire. Him and every other trainer hopeful.

There had been an unexpected baby boom in Kanto's starter Pokemon breeding program, Oak had said. Normally, a starter was only available to the top three prospective trainers, determined through the rankings made in the process of taking a licensing exam. On average, there was one of each starter Pokemon available. Every now and then, there was a second starter of a specific species made available, though it was pre-disclosed for the sake of fairness.

This time around, there were three of each.

Robb could almost feel himself salivate at the thought. He wanted a proper starter Pokemon, and the Kanto trio were his favorites: Bulbasaur, Squirtle, and Charmander. As a Johto native, he worried that it would be impossible to receive a Kanto starter. Fortunately, him being a Johto citizen was irrelevant in this instance, considering Kanto and Johto shared both their borders and their Champion. There were written records of kids from Johto starting out with Kanto Pokemon, and vice versa. In other words, there was some wiggle room for him to take advantage of.

Robb was positive he'd be happy with any of the Kanto starters, really. Especially considering the capabilities of their fully evolved forms. But as a Violet City native, Flying type Pokemon were sacred, and as the previous wielder of an original holographic Charizard Pokemon card, he already held a bias that could not be ignored.

Robb wanted a Charmander.

However, regardless of there being wiggle room, Robb discovered an immediate snag. He had hoped to find some sort of study guide or reference sheet to appropriately plan for the licensing exam, or at least something similar to build off from. As he came to understand, the exam process by which a trainer received their license and the possibility of a regional starter was secretive. As in, governmentally secured. No articles on the subject were kept online for longer than a few minutes, the Pokemon League quickly removing them from traction, and hefty fines were immediately placed on the parties that tried to give away this information.

When Robb thought about it, he could understand. These tests determined not only the basic capabilities of their test takers, but the grades received through them further determined what rank a trainer would begin with. Said rankings determined whether or not a trainer would be permitted to go into restricted biomes for training purposes, or be given free pokeballs and medical supplies from local Pokemarts as a result of a league sponsored deal. With a higher ranking, one could even get a stipend.

And of course, the regional starter Pokemon were to go only to the best of these test takers. The top three exam placers were eligible for these rare Pokemon, along with a Pokedex, which was its own status symbol.

Considering hundreds of kids took his exam, it was a fight and-a-half to get a regional starter, and even then, Charmander was the most popular of them in Kanto. It was nearly consistent that every first placement began their journey with a Charmander. Those rare times a kid that got first dibs didn't start with a Charmander, they ended up getting flamed online.

Heh. Flamed. Charmander.

Puns.

Shaking his head, Robb determined that due to the popularity of a Charmander, he'd likely need to score in the top three. Elsewise, he wouldn't be able to guarantee his preferred partner. Any of the other starters would be fine, of course. But he had his preference.

But this scenario was precisely why owning a computer was so important to Robb. He'd never have known any of this, had he not had the chance to look it up for himself. The hospital staff were all adults of varying ages, but even for the youngest tech on site, it'd been over a decade since they'd taken the exam. They were no help. Robb had never been a strong reader in the before, but he could parse a contract decently well, and when all things were said and done, that was extremely useful in picking apart things unsaid.

As an example, even though exam details were tightly controlled, enough information had been spread between posting and removal threads for Robb to infer to give him something resembling an edge. He knew the topics that were tested, he just didn't know the questions that correlated to them.

There were three primary emphasis areas: Battle, Survival, and General Knowledge. Robb deduced that they were each split up into practical and theoretical tests. Probably.

For battle, he'd almost certainly have to know how to battle. It'd be foolish for that not to be the case. What moves did what, what was super effective and what wasn't, strategies that worked, and general situational awareness. Similarly, he'd have to know how to survive in the wild, and a decent amount of know-how about anything and everything.

He would definitely be studying and finding out whatever he could during his free time. He could play and have fun outside after his exams were settled.

Robb yawned then, smacking his lips. He glanced over at the segment of wall just above his closet, where a clock lay. 3:15, huh? He'd just gotten through another therapy session with Dr. Thames, so he was dead tired.

Good time for a nap, Robb thought, snuggling into his sheets.


A nervous energy wafted over Robb, chilling him to the core.

He was stood in the front of an almost spartan room in a pair of uncomfortable uniform clothes. A kindly older woman named Miss Priscilla stood by his side, with wavy black hair and attractive, burgundy eyes.

Before them were the faces of the devil. The eyes of Satan.

Before them… were children.

"Class!" Miss Priscilla said. "We have a new student!"

Those evil eyes snapped towards Robb with the aim of a sniper. They were of varying ages, but Robb was certain that at twelve, he was the oldest kid here. The youngest looked barely six.

"This is Robb Stark," Miss Priscilla continued. "He's been away from the school for a long time, and we're excited to finally have him back. He's hoping to become a trainer like all of you are! Please greet him warmly!"

"HI ROBB!" They all cheered. Their squeaky, loud, evil voices were like nails on glass.

It was official. Pokemon world or not, Robb knew where he was.

Hell.


There will be a few more prologue-like chapters to come before Robb does anything worth-while. I know a lot of you are expecting the fun to happen quick, but I really would like the chance to hammer things out at a better pace this time around.

Robb now has to attend a Pokemon Academy. Earl's Pokemon Academy, to be specific. Y'all should look up who Earl is. He's a… character. Robb also has no choice in this matter. We'll go into the why that is in the next chapter.

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