Dear Mom and Waffles,

How are you doing? I hope that little Whismur is keeping quiet around the house now that I'm about and about and he has no one to Uproar awake in the morning. I honestly do miss the little guy though. Hope he misses me too.

I hope you're doing alright on your own. I know you're the one who kicked me out and all, but I know you didn't really want to. You did it for my own good and, while I can't say it's been great yet, it's been okay and I see room for it to get better. I'll see you in a few monthes, and I'll remember to mail you every time I possibly can.

Love, your favorite (and only) son,

Dylan


Dylan's mother read this letter with pursed lips, deeply irritated by the misspelling of the word "months" as "monthes".

As a stay-at-home mother, she made it her duty to make sure he was as educated as possible, but her son was always the stubborn type. The typical boy, minus any form of athleticism, he gave her a lot of trouble throughout the years and so sending him to some prestigious camp in Pallet Town, Kanto felt like the best opportunity to get him a proper education – and truthfully, it was mostly done to get him out of the house.

Not book smart by any means, her son Dylan was an innovator at heart. Determined and fiery in his passion for electronics, he taught himself how to build and mechanize many things, something she's not sure where he learned. He never built anything that lasted very long, they were either very silly and disposable or they'd explode in his face.

Good thing Dylan's capable of taking many hits, Lord only knows how many times that boy has shocked himself until he peed his pants, she'd always thought to herself reassuringly, He'll do fine out there on his own.

And the more she thought about him and his inventions, the more she linked it back to his genius father, memories she'd rather suppress since he abandoned his family years ago.

With her mind astray in these moments, she folded up the letter and decided to wander around the house. Going through the fridge, she noticed how much food was left over without Dylan around. Her pet Whismur, the ever-so whimsical Waffles, strutted through the house. He seemed almost lost without Dylan, the usually scream-in-his-face morning routine being moot now. And then all of the extra rolls of toilet paper in the closet? She'd have leftovers by the time he came back home. If and when that'd be, she didn't know.

As much as she knew she'd miss having her son around the house, she knew it'd be better for him to develop more skills than just his tinkering and maybe he'll make something of himself.


It was probably about Dylan's tenth read-through of the letter when he finally, and carefully, folded it up and hesitantly dropped it into an envelope.

As the fourteen year old licked the seam, he began to wonder if he missed any grammatical or spelling errors. He knew his mother was incredibly demanding and picky when it came to his writing, so sending her these constant letters is probably her way of having a lesson away from home. While his mother's true passion was in the Super Contests she went through in her younger days, she always did have a kick for teaching so the homeschooling thing – while not her natural fit – worked out a bit well. He did admit that he had his own problems when it came to learning, he just didn't care enough, but he tried his best to please her, even if his best wasn't ever enough.

As he dropped off the letter at the post office in Pallet and watched the delivery Pidgey fly away with it in its grip, Dylan realized why he never did care for Pokémon too much. They always seemed like a distraction from bettering humans on their own. How can humans, so flawed and always needing improvement, help themselves if they're constantly training and bettering their Pokémon? It just didn't seem fair to him, so he always dreamt of inventing things that made human life a lot easier without the need for Pokémon.

People always called him "mean" or "crazy" for thinking that way, but it was just how his brain worked. So as he watched Pidgey fly away, he knew he'd have a new side-project to work on... wings for humans. Something mechanical, something workable and usable, that'll allow people to fly and deliver their own letters. But then as he thought about it more, he began to see that if people could fly, there'd be no need to deliver letters anyway. The more he thought, the more his brain began to hurt, so he just shook the thoughts out of his head and decided to head back to his cabin.

The campgrounds weren't very big, but Dylan didn't like to explore them anyway. He preferred the confines of his own room, tinkering with a project he'd been working on for a while, his own Pokédex. While he never found Pokémon particularly pleasing to him, he always did enjoy the mythology, biology and backgrounds behind each of these creatures. It fascinated him, so an entire electronic database full of this information was something he was interested in. He copied the code from Professor Oak's original Pokédex and pretty much morphed it into his own thing, but it wasn't ready just yet.


Lux was a Pikachu who lived in the Viridian Forest for the majority of his life, so the view of Viridian City from the peak of a Cheri Berry tree was breathtaking to him. He always had a curiosity for what lies beyond the trees, bushes, and underbrush of the forest, but his family thought he was crazy.

Humans were strange creatures to Lux, who preferred the company of himself and himself alone. His Naughty nature makes him dream often of what he'd do if he were ever in the company of a human, and he always came to the same conclusion. He'd probably zap the shit out of 'em. He smirked at the thought of it.

He was used to having conversations with himself; his family was very high-strung about learning the move Thunderbolt and he didn't want to hear about the stories anymore and that's all they'd ever talk about. His uncle was apparently some war hero, having fought in the Great War between Kanto and Unova alongside his trainer. He's some gym leader now, and his uncle apparently likes to kick butt there, so it's family tradition to honor him and train to be great warriors.

But Lux wanted none of it. He just wanted to leave, to explore, and to be left alone.

So one night, he decided to stop dreaming and stop being afraid of the unknown and to just go for it. So he left the forest, hoping to find a sense of direction on his upcoming journey.


There was a knock at the door and Dylan begrudgingly got up from his chair. He was always fairly lazy, so in getting up to grab the door he released an audible, exaggerated groan to express his displeasure.

The girl who stood at the door, Autumn, was vividly stunning. She always made sure to make herself look good in front of the boys in camp. Because the camp had a minority of girls, and good looking ones at that, Autumn got a crap ton of attention. And she absolutely adored it all. But because she was stingy when it came to the boys she'd let close to her, having everyone chase her around made it all a big game to Autumn.

Her short stature, long chestnut hair, and the glasses adorned on her face illuminated her brown eyes all gave her a look of innocence and beauty. She had a single studded piercing in her right cheek that gave her rounded face an extra glimmer. She always wore a pair of skin-tight black leggings, brown boots, and a heavy almond-colored coat with some extra fur at the collars. She left the top two buttons undone, revealing a cream-colored top underneath. Autumn preferred to wear all of these dull colors, and for some reason she really pulled it off.

By looking at her, no one would ever know she was the granddaughter of Professor Oak.

"Oh!" Dylan exclaimed. He leaned against the doorframe, with a smirk. "Hey, Autumn, how you doin'?"

This was Dylan trying look cool, but based on Autumn's cocked eyebrow and opened mouth she was not impressed. He didn't take the hint though; Dylan always was too oblivious for his own good.

"Um, I was okay until about five seconds ago and now I'm uncomfortable," Autumn responded coolly. "Professor Oak wants to see the two of us, he told me to come get you. And bring that little doo-hickey thing with you."

"Little doo-hickey thing?" Dylan asked. "What are you...?"

"Your wannabe Pokédex."

Dylan frowned, and then nodded to her. "Uh sure, just give me a sec. Do you know why he wants to see it or...?"

"No idea."

Dylan headed back inside his room, not before "smoothly" inviting Autumn inside his cabin, but she politely – but adamantly – refused. She and Dylan admittedly didn't know each other very well, but she knew his reputation as someone incredibly obnoxious and full of himself so she preferred the comfort of the hallway.


The walk to Professor Oak's lab was awkward and half-silent.

Dylan tried to make conversation with Autumn a bunch of weird things; she didn't understand why he'd even bring up half of the things he was saying. It seemed clear to her that he honestly thought discussing his unsanitary laundry habits or gastro-intestinal issues thanks to his overeating were comfortable topics of conversation to have with a girl. He was so smooth about it though, it made her very confused. She rolled her eyes about ten times on the walk there.

And it was odd for her too because Dylan was vaguely attractive. He had boyish good looks which were hidden under a childlike presence. His long, messy brown hair stuck out from his chullo hat. It's an article of clothing he always wore, he owned a million different colors but he'd been sticking to a navy blue one with a purple Poké Ball logo on it recently. He wore a tight-fitting red short sleeved shirt with white stripes that made up the sides under his arms and the collar around his neck. He wore fingerless black gloves, with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his blue cargo jeans. His shoes were a similar navy color to the hat. His entire demeanor, his attitude and his clothing, gave off a vibrant aura that naturally and perfectly contrasted Autumn's duller colors.

Upon their arrival to the lab, Professor Oak – the aging, but brilliant professor – approached them swiftly.

"Ah, Autumn, you've brought him. Good, good."

Dylan was truly starstruck. He'd never been this close to Professor Oak before. This guy was his idol, he'd only seen him at assemblies, because he spent most of his time inside of his lab, which was never given open access to anyone. Dylan looked over all of the electronic equipment and conduits and Pokémon and other researchers as he walked in with awe, but now his complete attention was on Oak and his presence.

Stuttering like a buffoon, Dylan stammered, "P—Professor, it's nice to meet you. I – I don't know why I'm here but it's – it's really an honor, sin-sin-sincerely, sir."

The Professor seemed charmed by Dylan's enamoring behavior. He just chuckled softly and said, "This is about you and your future at my Training School."

Dylan winced. He knew he had failed many classes in the last semester and wasn't taking school seriously, but he didn't want to have to return home to live with his mother and forever be a disappointment to her. He felt like he was ready to barf in that moment, all over the professor that inspired him and all over his hot granddaughter too.

"I think you're ready to move on, Dylan, and graduate and become an exceptional Pokémon trainer."

These words made Dylan confused instantaneously.

"T—Trainer? What?"

Even Autumn gasped in the moment, "Huh?"

"Now, your grades are subpar, but the coaches have taken a liking to your optimism and your inventing abilities. You show great interest in the biology of Pokémon and you seem like an excellent candidate to continue my studies," Professor Oak explained.

"Then why am I hear, gramps?" Autumn asked impatiently as she crossed her arms in disapproval.

"Because I want you to go too, Autumn."

Autumn and Dylan exchanged glances with each other. They both were very surprised by this revelation.

"I – I'm not sure if being a Trainer is something I'm interested in, honestly," Dylan admitted. "I'd rather be an inventor or a researcher or something technical, I haven't really decided yet."

"Collecting Pokémon isn't about training," the professor explained. "You can journey through Kanto, catch multiple Pokémon and just start a collection for you to research if that's what pleases you. I just think you have tons of potential."

If Dylan was ready to barf earlier, now he was just ready to explode all over the walls.

This was all happening so quickly, it didn't quite feel real to him. He was ecstatic at the opportunity presented to him. Initially he feared he'd be shoehorned into a trainer position but now he's available to do whatever he pleases.

"Let me see your Pokédex, Dylan, I'll see if it's suitable to take on your journey and I'll get Autumn one of mine," the professor said.

Dylan handed over his Pokédex to the Professor. Oak examined the piece of equipment, poked and prodded at it, and then gasped in horror and confusion.

"You – built a Nuzlocke Pokédex?"

"Yeah, it sounded cool right?!" Dylan exclaimed.

He had saw a late-night special when he started building the Pokédex on how rare and difficult to build a Nuzlocke branded one was, so he took the challenge without reading much into it. The professor's face, however, showed him a different story other than being just impressed.

"You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into, have you?"

Dylan gulped and looked up nervously.

"No," he admitted. "Is it bad?"

"A Nuzlocke is a challenge for exclusive trainers, and it's extremely dangerous," Oak said sternly. "And now that you've already applied for it, there's no turning back. You have no choice but to continue with it and defeat the Pokémon League as a full-fledged Pokémon Trainer."