The next day…

News of the incidents on the mainland had yet to reach a sleepy Fortune Island. The small archipelago might have been considered a territory of the Kanto region, but it was nowhere near as technologically advanced: it citizens lived a relatively slow, sleepy life amidst the small village and various forms of wildlife. They had some access to modern technology, but many people lived a rural lifestyle, choosing to live, at least partially, off of what they could grow. Others chose to do what they could with the abundant shipments of crops and such from the mainland. It was especially convenient for working families, not unlike the one belonging to one Greg Hathaway.

The 16-year-old was sleeping peacefully, completely unaware that it was way past the time that he should've been up. In fact, the alarm clock he'd set never went off.

With a stir, his eyes fluttered open. After mumbling incoherently for a few minutes, his eyes went wide as saucers.

"Wait a minute. It's 9 AM. I missed the ferry!"

For once, he was grateful that his house didn't have any stairs because he would've tumbled down them with the speed at which he was running. Unfortunately for him, his parents had already left for work. If he didn't think of something fast, they were going to run out of Pokémon to give out!

Hastily getting showered and dressed, he ran outside and bolted toward the closest sailor he could find.

"What is the next ferry come in?" He had realized too late that he spat in the sailor's face in his fast talking haste. The man took no offense to it, strangely enough.

"Kid, didn't you hear? The commuter ferries are out of service today. Maintenance day."

"No!" He muttered to himself, frustrated. "Look, man. I have been waiting for this day for what feels like ages. My younger brothers and sisters managed to get their trainers licenses and Pokémon before I did. I really, really want to start my journey today! Are you sure there isn't some other way to get to Pallet from here?"

The man thought for a moment, his eyes darting around. He spotted a tanker with cargo on it, no doubt headed for the mainland. He mumbled something along the lines of 'I sure hope I don't get fired for this' before asking Greg to follow him.

The next thing he knew, Greg was in a large container, filled with a lot of things that could very well crush him if he were careless with the way he moved. Yet, his thoughts were very much occupied by thoughts of which starter he would pick. He'd heard that Bulbasaur was easy to raise. There was also Charmander, which could evolve into an awesome Charizard. Then there was Squirtle, which could be fun in its own ways. And then there were the rumors. Rumor had it that recently, two new starter possibilities have been put into the rotation to hand out trainers. There was no consensus on what they were, but just the thought sent his stomach turning. Or maybe that was just the seasickness…

They landed after what felt like an eternity. Seconds after docking on Pallet Town, he hastily said thank you and goodbye to the seller and dashed to the Pokémon lab.

He burst into the lab to find it void of the beginning trainers that he expected to see. Only a few scientists were in the immediate area. They all seemed shocked to see him, and one of them shot a look at him before heading back and over to another room to talk so somebody. A minute or so later, the woman re-emerged, this time with another woman in tow: a woman of average height with sandy hair and a sharp gaze.

"You. Child." She said abruptly, forcing Greg to look at her.

"Yeah?" He asked, still out of breath from his run.

"Your name?"

He fumbled around a bit before answering. "Greg Hathaway."

She wordlessly stepped over to a computer and tapped keys for a little bit before looking back up. "I see. It seems you've just registered recently. Let's see if we can find you a starter."

Following her into the stockroom, he looked around the room very anxiously. The place had been practically picked clean, probably by prospective trainers whose alarm clocks actually went off…

After a while, she fished two devices Greg recognized as Pokéballs. She held them out to him.

"Choose. The one in my left hand has a Pichu in it while the other has an Eevee. Choose wisely, for whichever you pick will be your partner on the journey. There'll be no going back."

"Uh…"

"Oh," she interjected. "And don't even think about saying both. It's one or the other."

Greg had to think on this one. On one hand, he could evolve Eevee into one of eight different kinds of Pokémon. On the other hand, he would have to choose that wisely, as there was no going back. There was also the fact that he had a thing for electric Pokémon. They had always fascinated him. Which made him wonder about the possibility of a Jolteon. After considerable thought, he chose the one...

…on the left.

Without any hesitation, the woman put back the unchosen ball and gave the chosen one to him. After a bit of paperwork signing and a photo, he got his trainers' license, ready to go. As he was walking out, though, the Pichu let itself out of its ball.

A look of realization hit the woman immediately. "Right, that one was the one that hated Pokéballs. I forgot."

Before she could say anything further, the tiny mouse leaped on the boy's shoulder and made its way to his blond hair before delivering a decent albeit unintentional shock.

"Oh, did I mention that you needed something to redirect that electricity?"

Greg was still twitching "Now you tell me…"

Greg left the lab with Pokédex, Pokégear, and rubber-insulated backpack in tow. As toasty as he still was from his friend's "greeting", he was still thrilled for the adventure ahead.

And so, one journey begins, as others continue!