AN: Exams are finally over and got my ass together to write this, in fact, I am writing a new fic right now. Though... I can't guarantee to release it and it's still being fleshed and thought out.
Oh, further more, I'm kinda going in blind here since I didn't really watch the first season and episodes of the anime completely cuz I simply either skipped them when I was a kid or fast forward the time because of my lack of attention span.
AO3 User: /users/Generan_Aprerdes/pseuds/Generan_Aprerdes/works (Cool story in here Ig)
Discord Server: https/discord.gg/vgfADSacam
Disclaimer: I do not own Pokémon or have any rights to it. This is only a fan content and fanfiction.
"Quilava, let's go!" I shouted.
As the Pokéball hit the ground, Quilava burst out in a flash of light, its flames already blazing brightly along its back. The crowd roared in excitement, and I felt my heart pounding in sync with the electric energy of the moment.
"Looks like Genera's going with Quilava first! What will Kent choose to counter?" the announcer said dramatically, hyping up the crowd even more.
Across the battlefield, my opponent grinned, pulling out his own Pokéball. "Go, Graveler!" he yelled, and the bulky Rock-type landed with a heavy thud, cracking the earth beneath it.
Damn it, a type disadvantage. I can't switch in this round. Looks like I'll have to do this the hard way.
"Graveler, use Rollout!" Kent commanded without hesitation.
Graveler wasted no time, curling into a ball and barreling toward Quilava at an alarming speed.
"Quilava, dodge and use Flame Wheel!" I yelled, adrenaline surging through me.
Quilava leapt to the side, barely avoiding Graveler's rolling attack, and spun into a blazing wheel of fire, crashing into Graveler in a burst of heat and sparks. The impact sent shockwaves through the battlefield as both Pokémon struggled to overpower the other.
"Graveler, hit it with Rock Blast!" Kent shouted, and Graveler unleashed a volley of sharp rocks straight at Quilava.
"Hang in there, Quilava! Use Flamethrower!" I commanded, my voice filled with urgency.
Quilava fired a powerful stream of flames, melting the incoming rocks mid-air. But then, something strange happened—Quilava's flames flickered erratically, and I noticed its body beginning to glow.
"No way…" I whispered in disbelief, my eyes widening.
Quilava's form began to shift, elongating, and its fire morphed into something otherworldly, ghostly even. My heart raced as realization dawned on me—Quilava was evolving.
In a dazzling flash of light, Quilava transformed into... a Hisuian Typhlosion, its fiery mane now swirling with eerie, purple ghost flames. The energy radiating from it was overwhelming.
"Yes! Epic ghostly flames! Let's finish this!" I shouted, excitement and adrenaline flooding through me.
But before I could give the final command, a piercing, repetitive sound cut through the air.
Beep! Beep! Beep!
The sound of my alarm clock snapped me out of the dream, my eyes flying open.
"Damn it, just a dream," I muttered in frustration.
I glanced at the clock.
8:28 a.m.
Shit. My eyes widened.
"Oh crap, today's the day! Cyndaquil, wak—" I stopped mid-sentence, realizing Cyndaquil was already awake, standing beside me and giggling. "Oh, never mind."
"Big bro, today's the big day you couldn't stop talking about last night," Cyndaquil teased, still chuckling.
"Yeah, yeah…" I muttered, still half-dazed.
"Genera, you up?"
Mrs. Gardner. Right. She must be getting my gear ready for the journey. Today's gonna be amazing!
I quickly suited up, slipping into the clothes we'd bought yesterday. Under my jacket, I wore a crisp white polo, with a shiny sky-blue badge pinned on the left side of my chest—a sun-shaped emblem. It was a little nod to my old online persona back in my previous life, from when I used the name 'Genera' on Discord. Funny how everything's turned out.
I paired it with black pants, because hey, cool points matter, right? Gotta nail the presentation. I just hope I don't get as filthy as Ash did at the start of the anime. I'd better be careful around him if I decide to wait and join him.
"Coming!" I called, practically bouncing out of my room.
Downstairs, I found Mrs. Gardner checking my bag, likely making sure everything was ready—from snacks to the portable stove and everything else I'd need for my Pokémon journey.
"Is everything set?" I asked, trying to keep the excitement out of my voice.
She shook her head without looking up. "Still doing a final check," she said, probably running through her mental list.
With nothing else to do, I let my eyes wander, taking in the familiar vases, paintings, books, and little trinkets scattered around the room. Then something caught my eye—a small desk tucked behind a tall chair, the kind you'd expect an old lady to sit in and knit. How had I never noticed it before?
Gotta be more observant next time.
I walked over, curiosity getting the better of me. I carefully moved the chair aside, revealing a framed picture of a young couple. On the right, the man stood surrounded by a Pidgeot, Vaporeon, Kadabra, and Flareon. The woman beside him had a Victreebel.
"Two Eeveelutions, huh? That's something," I muttered.
Mrs. Gardner must've heard me. "Interested in the picture, Genera?" she asked, turning toward me.
"Oh, um—sorry, I didn't mean to snoop. But yeah, it's interesting. Who are these two?" I asked, a little awkwardly.
She gave a sad smile—at least I thought it was sad. "That's me and my husband," she said quietly.
That surprised me. "Your husband? Where is he now?" I asked, genuinely curious.
Her expression darkened. "He's… dead."
"I—I'm so—" I started, but she cut me off gently.
"No, no, it's fine. You should know about this." She smiled again, though the pain was clear in her eyes.
Mrs. Gardner's gaze softened as she glanced back at the photo, her fingers tracing the edge of the frame. "He fought in the Kanto-Johto War, you know," she said, her voice turning somber. "That was twenty-five years ago, back when things were so different."
I could feel the weight of her words as she continued. "The war was devastating, especially near the borders of the two regions. Places that are now peaceful were once torn apart by conflict. It wasn't just trainers fighting—it was entire regions caught up in the destruction. Many Pokémon were lost, and so many trainers never returned home."
She paused, gathering herself before continuing. "My husband… he was one of the good ones. He saved lives—human and Pokémon alike. Even Johto soldiers, it didn't matter. He believed in doing the least harm possible. He hated the war, but he fought because he had to. He wanted to end the suffering."
Her voice wavered, and she swallowed hard, the memories clearly still painful. "He died in action, protecting others." A heavy silence followed, and I struggled to find the right words. What could I say to that?
Before I could speak, she turned to me, her expression softening again as she forced a small smile. "That Victreebel in the photo… she passed on long ago. But that Bellsprout in the garden? That's her offspring. She left a little piece of herself behind, even after everything."
I nodded silently, feeling the weight of her story settle over me like a thick blanket. But then, her face changed—a flicker of sadness, but also a glimmer of hope.
"I never had children because of that war," she said, almost like a confession. "But… you're like a son to me, Genera. And I want to see you succeed."
She chuckled softly, the sadness still there, but mixed with warmth now. "Johto and Kanto need young trainers like you—trainers who can make a difference, and maybe help bring peace between the regions."
My mind blew in sudden realization. "Is this why the age requirement to become a Pokémon trainer is so low? So both regions can recover their numbers for future conflicts?" I asked in disbelief. Sending literal children, who lack critical thinking, to explore the wilderness and attempt to train their Pokémon... they could fail, maybe even get hurt by accident.
But... the lessons back in school addressed those issues, teaching us what to do in dangerous situations, how to train, use equipment, and even potential careers—all throughout elementary and middle school. Though, I am very sure the low age is for easy indoctrination of the young.
She paused for a moment, then answered, "Yes, unfortunately."
Another example of how not everything is sunshine and rainbows like in the anime. The games got it decently right—shitty people, shitty Pokémon, and a blurry line between good and bad, just like my previous world.
She continued, "Well, enough of the dark stuff. You caught on really quick. I'm sure your bright mind will make the world a better place." She held my left hand in a gesture of encouragement. "Ahh, almost forgot. Here, have these snacks and a food box that'll last two weeks. Make sure to replenish them!"
I grinned. "Got it, Mrs. Gardner. But before I go..." I equipped my backpack and glanced at Cyndaquil, who had been sitting silently on the couch the entire time.
"Hop on, Cyndaquil." There he goes, looking unbearably adorable but also filled with a surge of determination to grow strong.
I stepped in front of the mirror, examining myself. White hair and blue eyes—if only they glowed a bit like Gojo Satoru's, I'd feel like a complete protagonist. My face looked Kantonian, no trace of Kalosian at all. I still don't know if I inherited anything from my dad—if I'm really of his blood, that is, I don't look anything that resembles my parents.
I posed, putting my right hand in my pocket and lifting my circular glasses with my left. Now I feel like I'm going to become the very best.
Heh, I look like I walked straight out of a market ad. And the more I think about it... the cringier it gets.
I laughed at my own thoughts. Mrs. Gardner looked a bit confused.
"Oh! I absolutely almost forgot. Once you get your Pokédex and trainer card, head to Viridian City's Pokémon Center so I can transfer twenty thousand Pokédollars," she said in a slight panic, which was pretty funny to me.
"Oh, alright. And thank you for everything, Mrs. Gardner!" I thanked her sincerely.
She chuckled. "Oh, it's nothing. Gotta help the young reach their prime."
I laughed again. "Cyndaquil, let's roll out!"
Cyndaquil didn't get it. "Isn't that a rock move?"
I laughed again. I'd explain it to him later. I stepped out of the house, already running toward Professor Oak's iconic lab—not because I was late, just excited. "Bye, Mrs. Gardner!" I called out.
"Good luck on your journey, Genera!" she shouted back.
As we stepped outside, the morning sun greeted us, its warm light filtering through the towering oak and pine trees that lined the path. A soft breeze rustled through the grass, carrying the scent of wildflowers and dew. Bird Pokémon chirped from the branches, and every now and then, I spotted a few Rattata darting through the bushes.
I could hear the conversations of Pokémon—a mix of chirps, twitching, hissing, and more. The noises and the wind made everything feel alive and beautiful. I was honestly a bit enlightened by it all.
The trail to Professor Oak's lab wasn't far, but the anticipation made it feel like it stretched forever. I ran, not fast, but with all the excitement I felt.
"What I meant by 'let's roll out' is that we're heading out," I explained, glancing at Cyndaquil, who was perched on my shoulder.
"Ohhh! Okay, I get it now!" Cyndaquil's eyes lit up in understanding, and his flame flickered with excitement.
I smiled. "Anyway, this is just the beginning. Our first steps toward making a name for ourselves."
"Becoming the strongest?" Cyndaquil asked, his small voice filled with eagerness.
I shook my head, looking ahead at the winding dirt path. The trees opened up occasionally, giving glimpses of a sky dotted with clouds. "Not just that... I'm not sure what we'll be chasing, but I hope it's more than just strength. Hopefully, we'll discover new things—not just about ourselves but about the world."
Cyndaquil's flames sparked gently, his head tilting in curiosity. "Like what?"
"Who knows?" I said, feeling a mix of excitement and uncertainty. "Maybe we'll learn about different Pokémon, understand how people and Pokémon grow together. Maybe we'll meet people who'll change our perspectives, or find places that make us realize there's more to life than battling."
Cyndaquil nodded. "Yeah, that sounds good. But being strong is part of it, right?"
I chuckled. "Of course! Being strong will help us protect the ones we care about. But it shouldn't be our only goal. We'll figure it out together, okay?"
"Okay! But I still want to learn cool new moves!" Cyndaquil's flames flared playfully as he bounced a little on my shoulder.
I smiled, feeling the weight of the journey ahead, but in a good way. The path curved, and up ahead, I could see the silhouette of Professor Oak's lab in the distance, perched on a small hill, surrounded by tall grass, patches of trees, and the occasional wild Pokémon roaming free. The excitement returned.
"Then let's make sure we get there first," I said with a grin. "Professor Oak's waiting for us."
Cyndaquil puffed out his chest. "And then we'll get stronger!"
Together, we continued down the path, the lab getting closer with each step. The world around us felt alive, and with Cyndaquil by my side, I knew this journey was going to be anything but ordinary.
Professor Oak's Laboratory
"So many people here," I thought to myself.
Most of them were kids, probably a bunch of 10-year-olds lining up to get their starters. And honestly, I didn't think there were only three starters. From what I knew, you either had to sign up online or at a Pokémon Center, then hope one of Professor Oak's assistants saw your application and accepted it. There were many ways to get a starter—buying one, being gifted one by family, which was the most common. But the starters from Professor Oak's lab were usually stronger than the bought ones, thanks to the light training and good diets they got.
I stopped my train of thought when I realized Cyndaquil was quiet. He seemed to be shaking. "You okay, Cyndaquil?" I asked, concerned.
"Ye-yeah, I'm okay," he said nervously.
Is Cyndaquil having trauma or PTSD from this crowd? "Do you want to go back into your Pokéball?" I offered gently.
Cyndaquil nodded in reply. Something's definitely up with him. I'll have to comfort him if this happens again. "Alright, it's all safe. No worries."
I returned Cyndaquil to his Pokéball. Yeah, I'll figure out what's causing Cyndaquil to panic like that.
I sighed. Jeez, not all sunshine and rainbows again.
As I stood in the crowd, waiting for what felt like forever, one of Professor Oak's assistants stepped out of the lab.
"Genera! Come here and claim your Pokédex and Trainer ID!" she called out.
I started making my way forward, but before I could take more than a few steps, some random kid in line pointed at me, looking pissed off.
"Hey! Why is he skipping ahead of the line? That's favoritism!" the kid shouted, clearly annoyed.
I turned to him and shot back without missing a beat. "I have a starter already, you idiot. I'm just here for the Pokédex."
The kid's face turned bright red with embarrassment as he quickly looked down at the ground, probably regretting running his mouth. A few people around him chuckled, but I just shook my head and kept walking toward the lab.
"Some people," I muttered, feeling a smirk tug at my lips.
Once inside the lab, I was met with more kids and teens. One of Professor Oak's assistants, wearing a lab coat, escorted me toward the starters' room. I glanced around and saw more Pokémon than I expected. I thought they only gave out the iconic Charmander, Bulbasaur, and Squirtle.
"Uh, why are there more kinds of Pokémon here?" I asked, genuinely confused.
The man who escorted me chuckled a bit. "Oh, these have been generously donated as starters for trainers by a rich and famous breeder."
"Famous breeder?" I repeated.
"Yeah, his name's Gregor. He owns one of the largest ranches in Kanto. Professor Oak saved him from a landslide twelve years ago," the assistant explained.
A landslide? That's interesting. "What caused the landslide?"
"Some reckless trainer ordered her Steelix to use Earthquake on a very steep mountain. Gregor was unlucky enough to be in the way. Funnily enough, Professor Oak happened to be nearby and ordered his Alakazam to teleport Gregor to safety," he laughed.
"Wow," was all I could say.
The room buzzed with anticipation as more kids and teens, some just starting out on their journey and others waiting to receive their starters, gathered around. The starters themselves were lively too, with Bulbasaurs, Charmanders, Squirtles, and other donated Pokémon like Growlithes and Sandshrews moving about the enclosure.
The door swung open, and Professor Oak himself walked in. There was a certain energy to his presence—calm, yet authoritative. He glanced around at everyone, his eyes briefly resting on me before he cleared his throat, immediately commanding attention.
"Welcome, everyone," he began with a warm smile. "I see a lot of eager young faces today, excited to start your Pokémon journeys. Before we get into the details, let's talk about something very important—the Pokédex."
He reached into his lab coat and pulled out a red, compact device. It was sleek, a bit bigger than a smartphone, with a screen, several buttons, and a small camera lens at the back.
"This here is the Pokédex," he announced, raising it so everyone could see. "It's more than just a tool to scan and record Pokémon data. It's a multipurpose device that will assist you in many aspects of your journey."
He pressed a button on the side, and the Pokédex sprang to life with a soft chime. The screen displayed an interface with various icons and options.
"First off, let's talk about its primary function: Pokémon identification and information," Professor Oak continued. "When you encounter a new Pokémon, you simply point the camera at it, and it will analyze the creature, providing its species data, type, known moves, and even its temperament if possible."
He demonstrated by turning the Pokédex toward a nearby Bulbasaur, and the screen instantly displayed a detailed summary. Some kids and teens gasped in awe.
"But that's not all it does. The Pokédex can also function as a digital journal, allowing you to record your observations, thoughts, and even personal research. By pressing the yellow button here—" he pointed at the button in the middle of the device "—you can start a new entry. And if you hold it down, you can use the voice recording feature instead of typing."
There were murmurs of interest, a few nods of understanding.
"Furthermore, the Pokédex has built-in GPS and map functions, so you'll never lose your way. You can mark locations of interest, find Pokémon Centers, and even track your journey's progress. Pressing the blue button will bring up the map interface."
He tapped the blue button, and the screen shifted to a detailed map of the Kanto region. He zoomed in and out, showing the various routes and landmarks.
"For those of you who are interested in battling, the Pokédex can also track battle statistics. It'll log your wins, losses, and draw out battle strategies based on previous encounters. You can access this feature through the green button."
Professor Oak clicked the green button, and a few graphs and battle logs appeared on the screen. He looked around, making eye contact with a few of the kids, ensuring they were still with him.
"And finally, this device doubles as your Trainer ID. When you receive your official Trainer Card, it will sync automatically with your Pokédex, storing all your trainer data—badges, league points, and even a digital wallet for storing Pokédollars."
With another click, he showed how the Pokédex could scan a Trainer ID card and update information in real-time.
"This Pokédex, however, is not handed out to just anyone. It's specifically for trainers I sponsor or those who have passed my sponsorship test," he emphasized. There were murmurs, some envious looks, and a few people glancing at me. "It's a privilege and a responsibility, as you're not only trainers but also researchers in a way—helping me and others in uncovering the mysteries of Pokémon and how we coexist with them."
Professor Oak paused, letting his words sink in before he continued. "I know many of you have heard that I haven't held a sponsorship test in quite a few years. But recently, we've had a wonderful surprise—thanks to a popular and skilled breeder, we now have a surplus of starters. Because of this, I decided to hold the test once more, seeking out young trainers with high potential and talent to join me in my research."
The professor's voice softened slightly as he glanced around at the group, a proud smile on his face. "You see, it's not just about Pokémon training. It's about understanding the world we share with these wonderful creatures. Human and Pokémon sociology, ecological impact, and the many lingering mysteries that still remain unsolved in our world."
He folded his hands in front of him, looking almost nostalgic. "This journey isn't just about becoming strong trainers or powerful battlers. It's about forging bonds, learning, and discovering together. So for those of you receiving your Pokédex today, know that you're being given an opportunity to contribute to something greater than yourselves."
The room was silent for a moment, the weight of his words hanging in the air. Then, as if on cue, a murmur of excitement and admiration spread among the group.
"Now, for those receiving a Pokédex and Trainer ID today, please step forward," Professor Oak instructed, his tone shifting back to its usual lightness. "Let's get you all officially registered!"
We lined up in two rows to pick up our Pokédexes and Trainer IDs. Though, only the sponsored trainers got both; the non-sponsored ones could only get their Trainer ID. It made sense—the Pokédex wasn't meant for public distribution yet. It was an advanced, highly specialized device with expensive components, so mass production isn't feasible for now.
There were probably a hundred or so people crammed into the lab, all waiting to receive their items. Unfortunately, I was stuck as the 38th out of 50 in the row for getting my Pokédex and ID.
I could wait, no big deal—not like my legs would get tired anytime soon.
I scanned the room, trying to pass the time. With all the number of people here, things would be slow and bus—Eww what's this dude—I froze as I caught sight of a guy digging around his nose, that's so nast—he just ate his booger. What the fuck?! I cringed and looked away. The guy was already a mess and a trainwreck at first impression. Yeah, definitely someone I needed to avoid.
After what felt like an eternity of standing in line, I finally reached the front. A young woman with a name tag reading "Marie" looked up at me from behind a plain wooden desk, her smile welcoming and professional.
"Genera, right?" she asked, her hand hovering over a box filled with brand-new Pokédexes. I nodded, trying not to show how impatient I'd become.
"Yeah, that's me," I replied, eager to get through this and get started.
She reached into the box and pulled out a sleek, red Pokédex, handing it over to me. It was solid and slightly cool to the touch—definitely not something you'd find on store shelves.
"This is your Pokédex," she began, but paused and gestured to another machine beside her—a small device that looked like a cross between a printer and a computer. "But let's set up your Trainer ID first."
She led me over to a corner of the room where white sheets were set up as a backdrop for the ID photo. In front of me were a camera, a computer, and a strange machine that flashed green and blue lights.
"Please look straight ahead for the photo," Marie instructed as she tapped a few keys. The camera at the top of the machine swiveled to face me. I stood still as it snapped the picture, and then it whirred and hummed, spitting out a freshly printed card almost instantly.
She picked it up and handed it to me with a smile. "Here's your Trainer ID. It's official now. Congratulations, Genera."
I glanced down at the card. My photo, name, ID number, and a few other details like my age and hometown stared back at me. Holding it felt surreal. It was official now—I was really beginning my journey.
"Thanks," I said, pocketing the ID before turning back to the Pokédex. "So, what can you tell me about this?" I asked, genuinely curious.
"Of course!" She leaned forward slightly, pointing out the main buttons. "This Pokédex does more than just scan Pokémon. This button here," she tapped a green one on the side, "lets you record voice memos and add your own notes to each Pokémon entry. And this one," she pointed to a blue button, "activates the map feature, which connects to your Trainer ID's GPS, showing you your location and places of interest."
She continued, walking me through the various menus and features: a digital journal, a communication function to contact Professor Oak's lab or report findings, and a tracker to check which Pokémon I'd encountered or captured. It even had a rudimentary health monitor to check a Pokémon's basic vitals.
"Wow, this thing is packed," I muttered, genuinely impressed.
"It is. But remember, it's only for Professor Oak's sponsored trainers and those who passed his test. This isn't your average Pokédex," she said with a knowing look.
I nodded, carefully slipping the Pokédex into my bag. "Got it. Thanks again."
Once I had everything I needed, I stepped outside and stood by the entrance of the lab, taking a moment to process how far I'd come. Reincarnation, transmigration—from a regular high schooler to a Pokémon trainer. I missed everyone from my old world and life, but I'd accepted that I'd never see them again.
I wondered if I'd be blessed by a Legendary someday. Maybe Ho-Oh or Lugia? The Legendary Beasts? Or the Legendary Birds? Who knows? The uncertainty made the journey exciting—well, minus the part with Team Rocket. I'd definitely be ready to bite back if they showed up.
Shaking off the thought, I pulled out Cyndaquil's Pokéball. "Come on out, buddy," I murmured, releasing him.
He materialized in front of me, glancing around. The area was pretty empty, with only a few people passing by or hanging around.
I picked him up gently, holding him close. "Hey, Cyndaquil. What's wrong?" I asked softly, noticing the way his tiny body trembled. I crouched down to get closer to his level, meeting his gaze. "You don't have to be scared. No one here is going to hurt you."
He hesitated, then took a shaky breath. "Th-They hurt me... a lot," he whispered. "The humans... in black... with some sort of red symbol on their chests. I don't know what it was, but they... they starved me and kept hurting me for no reason. They said I wasn't strong enough."
A surge of anger shot through me. Humans in black with red symbols... that sounded a hell of a lot like Team Rocket. I'd heard about them. A bunch of scumbags who captured Pokémon, experimented on them, or sold them off to the highest bidder. The world of Pokémon wasn't all sunshine and happiness like the anime portrayed.
"Cyndaquil..." I murmured, trying to keep my rage in check. I needed to be here for him right now, not get lost in anger. "I'm so sorry you went through that."
His eyes were glossy with unshed tears, his nose twitching as he continued. "They were so mean... And I never saw my parents. I don't even know if they're alive or not. But I had friends—best friends. We all tried to stick together when we were locked up... but then, one day, I woke up alone. They took everyone else. I never saw them again."
He started to cry, his small body shaking in my hands. "Then I was being carried by those moving metal things with others like me, and I escaped and ran as fast as I could. I only ate a few berries... because no one wanted to share."
His words made my heart ache. That must have been how he ended up where we found him. And all because some damn criminals saw him and others as tools, not living beings with feelings and dreams.
"Listen, Cyndaquil," I said firmly, making sure he could see the sincerity in my eyes. "Not all humans are like that. I'm not like that. I'm here to protect you, okay? You're safe with me. I promise no one's ever going to hurt you again."
He looked up at me, his gaze filled with hope and hesitation. "You… you really mean that?" he asked softly.
"Of course, I do," I assured him, reaching out slowly to pat his head. "And if Team Rocket ever tries to come after you again, I won't take them on alone. I'll have help. We'll take them down together—with others who want to see them stopped."
Cyndaquil's small body still shivered, but his eyes shone with gratitude. "Okay… I believe you," he whispered.
I smiled gently. "That's my brave little guy." I kept my hand on his head, rubbing small circles of comfort. "We're a team now, and I'll keep you safe. No one's going to take you away or hurt you. You're free now, Cyndaquil."
He nodded, a small smile finally breaking through his fear and sadness. It was a small victory, but a step forward.
"Thank you, big bro," he murmured, his voice finally steady. "I… I'll trust you."
"You can count on me," I replied softly, feeling the weight of his trust settle on my shoulders. I had a lot to live up to, but I'd do whatever it took to make sure Cyndaquil never had to be scared like that again.
It wasn't until I stood up that I noticed a few people looking at me with curious expressions. I scratched the back of my head awkwardly, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Uh… just, you know, talking to my Pokémon," I mumbled, giving a small wave before turning away with Cyndaquil safely in my arms.
Later
At least an hour had passed, and most trainers had already left to begin their journeys. The only ones left at the entrance gate were a few news reporters, journalists, and onlookers, observing us and interviewing nearby people, assistants, and trainers about today's coming-of-age event.
I stood there with Cyndaquil perched on my shoulder, silently watching the sky. I had my Pokédex ready, my Trainer ID safely stored, and the Pokéballs Mrs. Gardner had given me. I had everything I needed. I'd stayed back for an hour to comfort Cyndaquil and keep him happy—and I think I did a pretty good job of it.
Suddenly, I heard footsteps behind me. I turned to see Professor Oak approaching, a strange smile on his face, looking at me almost… fondly? It felt weird. I furrowed my brows, feeling a bit self-conscious.
"Something on my face, Professor?" I asked, trying not to sound too confused.
He chuckled warmly, shaking his head. "No, nothing like that. You just remind me of someone I knew forty years ago."
"Forty years ago?" I repeated, surprised. That's a long time.
Professor Oak crossed his arms, still smiling. "Yep, a very long time. Anyway, I'm just here waiting for a certain latecomer."
"Ash," I said nonchalantly.
He laughed again. "Indeed. Though, aren't you heading out soon?"
I shrugged, glancing at Cyndaquil, who looked up at me with sadness and uncertainty. "I've got some things to take care of with Cyndaquil first, Professor."
Oak nodded, his gaze softening as he looked at Cyndaquil. "That's good. Take your time, Genera. It's important to make sure you're both ready."
A sudden cheer echoed nearby, along with car noises. "Gary, Gary, he's our man! If he can't do it, no one can!"
"Oh," I muttered.
Professor Oak laughed. "Alright, Genera, or should I say, young man, I'm going to head over to check on Gary and wait for Ash."
"Okay, Professor Oak," I replied, watching as he left.
Oh right! Ash! That means he's going to arrive very soon, probably running in late as usual. I figured it would be best to sit down just outside the lab where I could see the entrance.
"Let's stay quiet and watch, Cyndaquil," I said calmly.
He nodded. "Okay."
"Gary, Gary, he's our man! If he can't do it, no one can!"
"Ugh, that chant is going to annoy me," I grumbled.
"Gary, Gary, he's our—"
"Hey, watch where you're going!"
Wait, Ash is here! I'd better not interrupt this moment. Don't want to cause a major change in the timeline and trigger some sort of time paradox.
Am I just being paranoid? Maybe I shouldn't worry
I shifted slightly, focusing my ears and eyes on the conversation between the protagonist—Ash Ketchum—and Gary Motherfucking Oak.
"Well, you must be Ash," Gary said with a smirk. "Better late than never, I guess."
"Gary?" Ash asked, his tone mixed with confusion and surprise.
"Mister Gary," Gary corrected smugly. "Have some respect. You're lucky you got to meet me at the start of my grand journey."
Gary then crossed his arms, looking down at Ash with a superior air. "I'm going to take the world by storm and become a Pokémon Master."
"Oh, same goal as—"
"Quiet down, I'm not done yet!" Gary interrupted sharply. "Unlike you, I already have a Pokémon."
Ash's eyes widened. "Wow! Do you really? Can you please show it?"
"No, you loser. You snooze, you lose—you should've woken up earlier." Gary scoffed dismissively.
"Gary, Gary, he's our man! If he can't do it, no one can!" The cheerleaders' chant echoed loudly in support of Gary, their voices almost drowning out the conversation.
I rolled my eyes. "Ugh, I hate their chanting so much. It's killing me," I muttered under my breath.
Cyndaquil giggled softly on my shoulder, and I glanced at him, smiling a little despite the situation.
"Well, at least someone finds it funny," I whispered, shaking my head as the cheers continued.
Everything played out the same as in the original series. I considered heading out to Route 1 and making my way to Viridian City, or maybe immediately head out and spend some time in Viridian Forest as soon as I arrive and seeing if any Pokémon there wanted to join me willingly. I wouldn't want to force any Pokémon out of their homes and families.
"Thank you, thank you, everyone! You're looking at a future Pokémon Master in the making!" Gary's voice boomed as the sound of his car driving off echoed in the yard. That's cheating. No muscles to use because—no pain, no gain.
I took a deep breath and glanced around. The yard was starting to empty as trainers left with their new Pokémon to begin their journeys. I figured it was time for me to head out too. Cyndaquil gave a soft yawn on my shoulder, and I gently scratched his ear, making him purr softly in contentment.
"Guess it's time to move on, buddy," I murmured. "Let's get going."
Just as I turned to leave, I heard Professor Oak's voice calling out behind me.
"Oh, Genera!" he called.
I paused, turning back. "Oh, um... I'm heading out now, Professor."
Before I could say more, Ash's voice joined in.
"Genera!" he shouted, jogging up to us.
I raised an eyebrow at him, pretending to look surprised. "Hey, Ash," I greeted, crossing my arms casually. "Finally showed up, huh?"
Ash scratched the back of his head sheepishly, grinning. "Yeah... I got a little late."
I couldn't help but roll my eyes. "A little late, you say? There's not even any Pokémon left to give out." I shrugged, feigning indifference. I already knew how this scene would play out, but there was no harm in keeping up appearances.
Professor Oak, ever the peacemaker, gave a gentle chuckle. "Well, how about you join us for a bit first, Genera? It'd be nice to have you around for a little while longer."
I hesitated. What if I accidentally changed the timeline? Would he still get Pikachu? Glancing at Cyndaquil, who blinked at me with his semi-circle, barely visible eyes, I sighed inwardly. I guess... I'm just being paranoid. "Sure, why not?" I said finally. "I guess it won't hurt."
Ash's smile widened, grateful I hadn't just left him there alone. "Thanks, Genera."
"Yeah, yeah," I waved off his gratitude. "But I'm keeping a close watch on you, you know."
With that, I trailed behind Professor Oak and Ash as they led the way back inside. The lab was quiet now, the usual hustle and bustle calmed down after the earlier rush of new trainers.
Professor Oak led us into a familiar room with a circular display, three Pokéballs lined up in their respective slots. I could see Ash practically bouncing on his feet with excitement as he ran forward and opened the first one.
Empty.
He blinked in surprise but quickly moved to the next one, only to find the same result.
The third one opened up, and once again… nothing.
"Ugh, I wish I hadn't overslept!" Ash groaned, visibly deflating. His shoulders slumped, and he glanced back at Professor Oak, almost pleadingly.
"Ah, but there is one more," Professor Oak said with a small, almost mischievous smile.
Ash perked up instantly, his eyes lighting up with hope. "I'll take it!" he said eagerly, cutting off any further explanation Professor Oak might have given.
I shifted my weight, leaning against the wall as I watched the two interact. I knew exactly what was coming next, but it was still surreal seeing it happen in front of me in real-time.
Professor Oak moved to the middle of the display, pressing a button to reveal a fourth Pokéball, one with an electric symbol sticker attached to it. The way it emerged from the hidden compartment almost felt theatrical, and I smirked slightly at the sight.
"This one..." Professor Oak said, picking up the Pokéball and holding it out to Ash, "...I have to warn you, though. This Pokémon has a few… issues."
Ash's gaze never wavered, his determination set. "I'll still take it!" he insisted, his tone unwavering.
I straightened up, feeling a strange sense of concern bubbling up even though I already knew how things would unfold. "Ash, you might want to be careful and listen to Professor Oak's advice," I said, keeping my tone as neutral as possible.
Professor Oak nodded in agreement, appreciating my input. "Genera is right. This Pokémon isn't like the others. It's got a bit of a temperament."
Ash's grin only grew wider. "I'll make it work!" he declared confidently.
"Alright, then." Professor Oak smiled lightly, before handing the Pokéball to Ash. "Here he is."
The moment Ash held the Pokéball, I found myself holding my breath. Cyndaquil glanced at me curiously, sensing my tension. I gave him a small smile and shook my head, silently telling him everything would be okay.
And there it was. The faint click, the flash of light, and then…
"I am finally free from this awful prison!"
Huh, Pikachu views Pokéballs as a prison. That's… interesting and he definitely sounds male, all things confirmed now.
But now that he's out, it's about time I made my exit. The last thing I want is to get chased down by a bunch of pissed-off, bloodthirsty Spearows—or worse, a Fearow. I glanced at my new, clean outfit and my Silph Co. backpack, nodding to myself. I'd rather not ruin them over someone else's mistake.
"Cyndaquil, time for us to go," I said with a small wave.
He looked up, nodded, and then turned to Pikachu. "Bye-bye! We're going out for our adventure now!"
Pikachu glanced at Cyndaquil, then back at Ash, who tried to pet him and got zapped for his trouble. Typical. I stifled a grin, shaking my head. He'll be fine. He is the Chosen One, after all.
"Well, Ash, I'm heading out," I sighed as I crouched to let Cyndaquil climb onto my shoulder.
Ash's face dropped into a disappointed frown. "Oh, well… bye, Genera."
"Farewell, young man!" Professor Oak called out, his voice cheerful as ever.
I pushed open the lab's double doors and stepped outside, taking a deep breath of the crisp, morning air. The sun shone brightly, casting a golden hue over the surroundings. Excitement buzzed in the atmosphere, a tangible reminder of all the new beginnings happening today.
Adjusting my backpack straps, I headed toward the gate—only to spot a group of people in the distance, heading straight for the lab. They carried signs and instruments, and the faint sound of celebratory music reached my ears.
Wait… is that a marching band?
I squinted, and sure enough, Mrs. Ketchum's familiar figure led the group. The memory clicked: This was the part where she congratulates Ash and kicks off his journey with an over-the-top parade.
Yeah… no thanks. I glanced back at the lab and then at the approaching crowd. I had zero interest in sticking around for that. There was no time to waste—especially if I remembered correctly what would happen next.
"Come on, Cyndaquil," I murmured, turning on my heel and heading for the main road. "We should get a move on before we get dragged into this."
"Why?" Cyndaquil asked, his head tilting curiously as he perched on my shoulder.
I kept my voice low as we walked. "Well… Ash is probably going to end up doing something reckless soon. Something that'll get a whole bunch of Spearows chasing him down."
"Why would he do that?" Cyndaquil asked, his barely visible eyes blinking in confusion.
"Good question." I shook my head with a small, wry smile. "Knowing him, he'll probably throw some rocks or pebbles at them, not realizing how territorial and aggressive Spearows can get. They don't just get mad—they get angry. And Ash'll be right in their sights."
Cyndaquil's ears drooped a little, concern clear in his eyes. "That sounds dangerous. Should we help him?"
I hesitated, my steps slowing as I considered it. "No… Not this time. He's gotta handle this one on his own. He'll live, and besides, I really don't want to end up with my clothes shredded by a bunch of pissed-off birds because he decided to be a stupid."
Cyndaquil looked a bit uncertain but nodded. "Okay… but we'll be careful, right?"
"Of course." I reached up and gently scratched his head, earning a soft purr. "We'll steer clear of any Spearows we see. No need to piss them off and get swarmed. We're better off keeping our heads down and moving quickly."
With that, I picked up the pace, making my way down the path that led to Route 1. Behind us, the cheerful music from the parade drifted through the air, along with Mrs. Ketchum's proud voice calling out for Ash.
"Good luck, Ash," I murmured with a small chuckle, eyes focused firmly ahead. "You're gonna need it."
Then it hit me—if I wanted to avoid getting dragged into any messes, I needed to put some serious distance between myself and the chaos. The key word was: run
"Aaaaaaahhhh!" Cyndaquil yelped, startled by my sudden burst of speed.
Yeah, avoiding the plot sounds like a good idea for now. The last thing I need is to get involved in world-ending crises—at least not yet. There'll be plenty of time for that later… *if* it comes to that.
But for now…
"TO ADVENTURE!" I shouted, grinning as I sprinted forward, excitement bubbling up and spilling out with every step.
If the world wants to throw crazy shit my way, I'll deal with it on my own terms. And right now, that means exploring and having my own damn adventure!
Information for my memory issues:
Name: Genera Jenson
Age: 10
Birthday: April 13
Money: 7,432
Pokémon: 1/6
AN: Surprisingly, I did very decent in the exams despite barely putting effort into studying, one sentence and my mind is instantly fried.
???: There he goes
Author: Wowzers, now time for the pain of trying to write canon events of the anime
???: Well goo luck with that.
Author: Well thanks I guess
???: Now that you're finished, what are you planning to do now?
Author: I dunno, write?
???: You gonna get yourself writer's block if you keep writing uncontrollably
Author: Guess I'll take those words of yours