Mark wasn't impressed. The teenager in unfashionable neon green sent his Pidgey after a harried Caterpie with a command of "Peck!" The poor Caterpie couldn't keep up, earning itself another gouge, same as the last dozen times.

"They suck don't they?" Mark said to his viewing companion.

The scarred Rattata huffed at him, its single eye never straying from the battle. Mark smiled, the rat had character. It didn't look that old, but its small frame was littered with scars, the gouge across its empty left eye most prominent. This was a Pokemon that knew how to fight. Which begged the question.

"Why aren't you out there fighting?"

The Rattata gazed away from the scrap for the first time, emitting a fierce growl, for its size at least.

"Rata-tat!" The Pokemon spoke, gesturing at its eye with one paw.

"So what? You lost an eye and gave up?"

He'd never seen something so small, so angry. They'd have to work on that, once his impromptu plan bore fruit. Assuming the damn thing didn't maul him.

"Easy, easy. I didn't mean to insult you. It just seems a shame you won't battle when you seem so good at it."

That mollified the murderous rat, at least for the moment. You were never supposed to look a wild beast in the eyes, so he did just that, meeting its fierce gaze, two on one. Now for the kill shot.

"I could train you to overcome your handicap. You'd run through these losers, with a little training. What do you say?"

Body language is everything with Pokemon, at least according to his half a day's experience in this world. That's why he dared not look away first. The moment stretched, the amateurish battle between bird and bug forgotten.

He refused to even blink until the Rattata acquiesced. Mark didn't know the first thing about training Pokemon, except for fuzzy memories of the first season and a simmering ocean of ideas. Mark did know he wanted to be a trainer though, more than anything. Enough to fake confidence. Enough for the Rattata to finally look away.

The purple-furred Pokemon scampered halfway down a street before he could even process his little victory. His heart skipped a beat. Did he misjudge the situation?

Then the Rattata stopped and twisted back to look at him. Aren't you coming? It seemed to say. Swishing its tail in a come hither motion. He chased after the Pokemon with a wide grin on his face.


Leave it to a rat to know its way around a city. It led him on a merry chase through the alleys and side streets of Viridian City. Mark blew past more than a few pedestrians and amateur trainers but refused to lose sight, even as he sucked in big mouthfuls of air. He needed to get back in shape, and fast.

It was a relief when they finally stopped in an empty park, if it could be called that. Overgrown, with a couple of rickety benches and no other people in sight. It was more wilderness than anything.

He bent over, hands clasped around his knees, to catch his breath. It felt like someone socked him in the gut while the damn rat didn't have a glisten of perspiration.

Disdain was an easy enough emotion to pick out, that or he was getting better at reading Pokemon.

"I'm a trainer, not an athlete, I do all my fighting up here," he said, tapping his skull, "so don't look at me like that."

The prideful rat dared to snort. Well, his would-be partner wasn't exactly the nurturing type. Good to know. He did his best to stay optimistic, lest he have a mental breakdown and start questioning reality. His new reality in a fictional universe. With sarcastic rats.

Mark clapped his hands as if to clear the mind. "So, training. Are you ready to get started?"

"Rattata."

Well, he lacked enthusiasm, but that was to be expected. No one got excited to listen to some overconfident guru, even if they decided to hear them out anyways. Most likely they were fake, like him.

"I'll take that as a yes. Why don't you show me your full moveset first, so I know what I'm dealing with."

Mark hated to think in moves, they were a game-ism, and this is most definitely reality and not the product of overactive synapses spasming during his last moments. Most definitely.

The rat did as he asked, spending a moment to build up what had to be a magical force around its tiny claws, before blurring at a tree, too fast for the eye to follow. The gouge left deep in the bark told the power behind that attack though. The damn thing could decapitate him without warning. It took all his already shaken composure to keep his voice steady.

"Is that it?"

The Rattata responded by making its teeth glow, before biting the already damaged tree, taking a chunk out of solid wood.

"Rata-tat"

"So, three moves, two attacks, and one for movement? I can work with that." Once he got past the initial burst of fear, his analytical mind started to take over. He never knew how much he wanted to perform Pokemon science until this exact moment.

"Can you take that energy you use for attacks and spread it across your body?"

The Pokemon stared at him for a long moment, judging, before doing as he asked. He watched as the rat Pokemons face distorted in concentration, as it pulled glowing lumps of white energy, from who-knows-where. That was the easy part.

It took a full minute of concentration before the glowing energy saturated its small frame, tail, and all. It looked something like a rat god, descended from the heavens. That or a set of too bright Christmas lights.

"Can you try moving around, while holding it?"

Rattata did as he asked, though it moved at a snail's pace, or a Slowpokes, he should say. All the energy didn't seem to be making him faster.

"Try releasing the energy all at once, away from me."

Mark backed up, but not quick enough. The Pokemon released the energy with a piercing shriek, a sound soon overpowered by the deafening cacophony of broken trees and falling lumber. In a park, in broad daylight. Fuck.

He wiped away a face full of splinters, grabbed the unmoving rat pokemon, which weighed far too little for the destruction it unleashed, and booked it.


It took an hour for his new friend to wake up, the accidental discharge of a proto-Hyper Beam would do that. He dared not move from this bench he found by a fountain of sculpted marble Gyarados. It was a pleasant place to sit, and surrounded by people, the perfect place to blend in.

They were still looking for the culprit, and though they wouldn't suspect a simple Rattata, he wasn't taking any chances. Besides, the Rattata wasn't his pokemon, not yet.

"Rattata?"

"Welcome back, I was worried about you for a bit." The Rattata stiffened when he stroked its fur, but didn't jump out of his lap.

"Sorry about all that, I was just interested in a bit of experimentation. I didn't expect you to learn Hyper Beam by accident. Still a good result for a couple of minutes work right?"

At the words, Hyper Beam, the Rattata tore itself from his arms, its slack gaze meeting his own. He never knew how adorable a surprised rat could look, scars and all.

"Yeah, we stumbled into it. Think about what we could do with more practice and experimentation. We've barely scratched the surface!" Mark had to know how Pokemon powers worked, and exploit them. It's in his nature.

"So what do you think, partners?"

The little rat met his gaze for a long moment, then suddenly stood up straight, like a gopher, before kneeling on one leg, head bowed like he was to be knighted.

A smile spread across his face. No words needed to be exchanged. The Rattata would follow him like he dreamed up when he first saw the scarred creature. Better even. It wasn't exactly loyalty, not yet, but he had what the rat desperately wanted. He even picked out a name for him.

"You are going to be the strongest Rattata that ever lived, Lancelot, I'll make sure of it."


"So to be clear, you lack any identification, and cannot acquire any form of identification in a timely fashion?"

"No, sorry. Is there any way I can still fill out the application?"

The nurse, Nancy according to her name tag, not Joy, sighed. "A trainer's license can serve as an ID, but you need to fill out another form first."

The, rather cute, woman rummaged around below the counter for a few moments, before retrieving a printout and sliding it to him.

"You'll have to fill this out, along with the normal license forum."

Mark blinked at the couple pages of paperwork. He was expecting a run around between different departments, all unable to solve his issue without existing identification he couldn't get. Things worked differently here, it seemed.

"How much will all this cost?"

The nurse gave him a strange look. "For the paperwork? It's free, of course. Paid for by the league."

Huh, would you look at that? He needed to learn more about how this world worked because it kept surprising him. A license should be a step in the right direction.

Mark borrowed a pen and sat down at a provided seat, leaving the nurse to deal with the small line built up in his wake. Lancelot took that as permission to jump atop his shoulder and survey the bustling Pokemon center.

Whether he was looking for a fight, acting protective, or simply curious he didn't know. He didn't know much about his lone Pokemon yet, except the obvious. It wanted power, just like him.

"You can stay up there buddy, but be careful. These papers are really important." Lancelot gave him a stoic nod in turn, then turned back to the crowds.

The paperwork was simplistic enough. Name, date of birth, birthplace, things like that. He had to annoy the nurse a couple of times with dumb questions, like the current date so he could calculate a reasonable date of birth, but ran into no real issues, even if he had to lie for near every question.

"Congratulations, you are now a licensed trainer. All new trainers are provided with a last-generation Pokedex, and five Pokeballs, courtesy of Silph Co. Please also take this information packet, containing our battling rulebook."

The nurse gave him her best bureaucratic smile, then shooed him away. Mark got the impression he annoyed her.

"Well, that was easy. There wasn't even a test." His perched rat chirped in agreement. Lancelot seemed a lot friendlier now that he was his Pokemon. Still itching for a fight though.

"Well, let's see what we got."

The Pokedex was an iconic red, the type used during the first season, the only season he watched before he grew out of Pokemon. Mark fiddled around with it for a bit, the interface reminding him of an old Nokia phone, with an exterior just as tough, before finding the scan function. He lined the lens up with the purple rat back on his shoulder, then pressed a button.

Rattata, the Mouse Pokemon. A Normal-type. Rattata can live in any environment. It eats everything. Wherever food is available, it will settle down and produce offspring continuously.

Well, that was cool, but not exactly informative. No moves list either, just an index. The Pokedex had other features, including email, video calling, and a Pokemon database he'd pour over later. Nothing he needed to look at right this moment. A colorful pamphlet stapled to the rulebook titled: So You Want to be A Trainer? caught his eye instead.

So You Want to be A Trainer?

Do you have at least one Pokemon? You should sign up today! Licensed trainers receive benefits, up to and including:

Free healing at any Pokemon Center.

Free room and board for you and your Pokemon at any Pokemon Center.*

Free use of Pokemon Center services including PCs, TM machines, video calls, and more!

Discounts on select Pokemon products.

And much more!

Sign up today!

*Limited free nights allowed per month, depending on badge level. Standard rates apply.

Some things, it seemed, stayed the same. It was almost comforting how similar advertising kept between worlds. The pamphlet, at least, solved his housing problem for the night. He was somehow teleported here with only the clothes on his back.

Mark perused the rest of the pamphlet, picking up a few key details the anime and games didn't cover. Real-world details. Like the fact that gym leaders tailored their teams to your badge level. Or that you had to earn a badge every six months or have your license revoked.

It was, in other words, like any other sport. Competitive and cutthroat, where only the best rise to the top. No wonder they made it free to sign up, you wouldn't want to lose a future star to potential fees. Of note is that not once did they mention any monetary rewards. Christ, it's like college football isn't it? The promotion takes all the money.

He wasn't about to complain. Yet. Not when his benefits were the only thing keeping him from sleeping on the street. Mark needed to train up Lancelot, and fast, if he wanted to earn money. He wasn't opposed to taking a teenager's Pokebucks as a battle wager. Especially that neon green loudmouth from before. All he had to do was win.

First things first, abuse the free services as much as possible. Lancelot could use some healing, some of those scars didn't look right.

"Hello again, Miss."

"Welcome back, what can I do for you?" Yeesh, the nurse definitely didn't like him. All false cheer with her.

"I'd like to get my Rattata looked at, he has a lot of scars and old wounds. Can you do something about that?"

A slight frown crossed the nurse's face, then was gone. "We can yes, but scar healing is time-consuming, and is not covered under the standard trainer license."

Expensive, in other words. " Will standard healing help?"

"It can. Has your Rattata ever been to a Pokemon center before?"

He glanced at the scarred rat, then back at the nurse. "No, he agreed to follow me only a couple of hours ago, I haven't even officially caught him yet."

The frown was obvious now. "Then please catch him, and hand over the Pokeball for healing. Quickly if you can."

Mark glanced behind him, at a reformed line, before deciding he didn't give a shit about other people. They couldn't fire Hyper Beams at him if they got pissy.

He twisted around, so he was eye to eye with Lancelot, and pulled out one of his free Pokeballs.

"You know what this is. Don't resist the capture, or make trouble for the healers. They'll fix you up, then we can get on to training. Remember, rest is an important part of growing stronger."

Lancelot gave him a swift nod, then touched his whiskered snout to the ball. A red beam encompassed the pokemon, broke him into mist, then sucked the red mist into the ball. All in the space of a second. Technology truly was amazing.

He handed the ball to the impatient nurse, then headed off to the attached room with PCs and video call machines. Time to do some research.