What alarmed Red most was the sensory deprivation.

The only consistent thing he could feel was the dull vibration of his heartbeat, muffled but constant. He couldn't distinguish color, nor shape– simply amorphous blobs of light and dark. Even then, there was very little to distinguish the two. Red could only assume that he was suspended in some sort of viscous fluid. His hearing was completely clogged; it felt as if he was underwater, yet his breathing was completely unaffected. It was all so eerie, so completely beyond his control or comprehension. The feeling made him want to scream, but calling out was no use, only resulting in a pathetic gurgle in the back of his throat.

He blindly reached out into the darkness, but was stopped short by a curved, solid surface on all sides. His stomach dropped and his heart rate spiked when he realized it was some sort of tube. And a narrow one at that.

He was trapped.

Red couldn't stop the repeated echo of the thought as it bounced around his head. Trapped, he was trapped. The adrenaline had begun to take hold– he was suddenly overwhelmed, powered solely by the urge to move, to escape. It jolted through his entire system like a spark of electricity, causing his form to lurch forward almost involuntarily.

Fighting the resistance of the fluid with all the force he could muster, Red pounded his fists against the surface, over and over. Thump, thump, thump.

He struggled to breathe as a wave of nausea overcame him. He was completely untethered from his body, from the sheer panic if nothing else, but helplessly continued to observe what little he could. He could hear– feel– something– a low drone that was quickly rising in frequency. In a last-ditch effort, Red switched to using the only other weapon at his disposal– his skull. Frenzied and in pain, he bashed his head against the glass.

Thump! Thump! Thump–!

There was a crunch, then a shattering sound, followed by a rapid drop in pressure as the tank's contents splashed out. Red fell forward, but he didn't flop to the ground as expected– there was no ground to fall forward onto. He tumbled into freefall in the endless darkness, down, down, down…

Red woke up gasping for breath, having slept through his alarm, and with a pounding headache to boot. He sat up slowly and cradled his head in his hands, trying to block out the sunlight streaming in through his bedroom window. Remembering the bandage, he took a moment to carefully peel back the gauze. Much to his surprise, the blisters had totally disappeared. It was as if there had never been a wound in the first place.

"You're awake."

Well, he didn't recognize that voice at all. It was male, or at least he assumed so, and sounded like it couldn't have belonged to someone much older than he was. But that was incredibly odd– none of Red's old schoolmates had stepped foot in Pallet in years. Even so, it sounded too real to be inside his head. His eyes darted around the room before landing on Lighter, who was sprawled out comfortably on an improvised bed of spare blankets and pillows on the other side of the room. "Lighter?" he croaked.

The Charmander let out a hiss, and the voice was back. "You sleep a lot, you know. Do all humans sleep as much as you do? When do we eat? I'm hungry."

Red's eyes widened in shock. "Can you…" He scrambled for the word. "…talk?"

The lizard froze for a moment, then narrowed his aqua-colored eyes to slits and stretched lazily. "Of course I can talk," he said. "I didn't know you could understand me. We don't exactly speak the same language."

"I… I didn't either." Red laughed uncomfortably. There was no way this was happening, He must have been sleeping still. He had to be.

Lighter rolled out of the makeshift little bed. "Well, since you can understand me, how about you understand that I need to be fed? Isn't that part of your job as a trainer?"

Well, dreaming or not, that headache Red had sure wasn't going anywhere. "No need for the attitude. I'll make us some breakfast and then we can get going."

Lighter sat on top of the kitchen table, helping himself to the bowl of Oran berries in the center. Within just a few minutes a sizable chunk of the bowl's contents had disappeared, rinds and all. Red, meanwhile, finished repacking. He had salvaged two standard Potions from the box of his father's belongings the night before– with his mother's blessing, of course. Thanks to the old man, he thought cynically. It wasn't much of an inheritance. Still, some naive little part of him refused to abandon the notion that somebody out there was watching over him, watching out for him.

"So what's inside the ball?" Red found himself asking.

Lighter thought about this for a moment. "There is a home inside," he answered. "I'd say it's a lot like your den upstairs. More suited for a Charmander, though. It's not big or exquisitely decorated but it's comfortable. And I can still hear what's going on outside."

"Sounds pretty luxurious compared to sleeping on the forest floor at night."

"It beats being cold or hungry. Still, I don't think you would like being cooped up in a little cave for days on end."

No, Red thought, I definitely would not.

"I can leave if I try really hard. The ball is a safe place, but most of the time I'd rather be outside." Lighter looked at the Poké Ball clipped to Red's belt. "If you don't mind."

Red placed his hand over the ball. "...Right. Sorry." He slung his backpack over one of his shoulders. "By the way," he added, "can I still call you Lighter?"

The Charmander nodded. "Sure. I like it. Nobody's ever given me a name before."

Now that he had the right tools to do so, Red was itching to catch a new member for the team. Once he and Lighter made it out into the woods of Route 1, the pair quickly veered off the trail into the tall grass. They pushed through the brush for several minutes before stopping on the edge of a small clearing peppered with stones and berry bushes.

As he stood completely still and listened, he was alerted to the soft twittering of a bird Pokémon. The sound was coming from the other side of the clearing. If Red squinted, he realized, he could just barely spot a flash of brown-and-cream plumage poking out of the green grass. Bingo.

There was some rustling as the Pokémon proceeded to step out of the grass and hop onto a rock. Red noted the creature's stubby beak and angular black facial markings. He took out his Pokédex and pointed it in the direction of the small bird, waiting for the entry to pop up. After a few seconds, the description appeared: #016 - Pidgey, it read. Tiny Bird Pokémon . Does not like to fight. It hides in tall grass and so on, foraging for food such as small bugs.

Red turned to his partner. "Looks like he should be pretty easy to recruit," he said. "Ready to make a friend?"

The Charmander crouched onto all fours. "Ready."

The boy nodded. "Let's go for a Scratch, but hold back a bit, okay? Don't hurt the little guy too bad."

Lighter broke off and carefully stalked around the perimeter of the area for a moment, plotting his angle. Then, once behind the wild Pidgey, he leapt out of the grass with a hiss and attacked the Tiny Bird Pokémon. The Pidgey let out a shrill cry as Scratch made contact. He retreated into the air before Tackling Lighter into the dirt in an attempted dive-bomb maneuver. Though the bird didn't have a ton of weight to throw around, the impact was enough to send the fiery lizard rolling.

"Does not like to fight," my ass, Red thought. He unclipped a Poké Ball. "C'mon," he pleaded, "hang in there." Carefully, he aimed, and threw the ball. It sailed across the clearing in an arc before striking the Pidgey in the breast. There was a flash of red light, and the next thing he knew the bird had been absorbed into the Poké Ball, which fell to the ground. Still, the Pidgey clearly wasn't ready to give up without a fight– the ball rolled and rocked back and forth as the Pokémon inside thrashed around in an attempt to get back out.

Lighter clambered back to Red's side. Together they watched the rocking slow to a halt, the once-glowing center button flickering out.

That warm, prideful feeling in his chest had returned. It was official– Red had just caught his first wild Pokémon.

Once he was able to reclaim the Poké Ball, he hit the release button, causing the Pidgey to phase into existence in a burst of bright light. The bird flew into the air, perching on a tree branch out of Red and Lighter's reach. "What's going on?" he demanded in a raspy little voice. "Who are you?"

"So you can all speak?" Red asked incredulously. Lighter gave him a dangerous look. "I mean – I'm Red, and this is Lighter. I just caught you in– uhm, I was hoping you'd… join our team."

The bird Pokémon took to preening himself in an effort to self-soothe. "Your… team?"

"That's right," said the boy. "We're gonna challenge the Indigo League. And every well-rounded team needs a good flying-type, don't you think?"

There was a glint of recognition in the bird's eyes. "You're a trainer," he observed. Red confirmed the statement with a nod. "So you can help me get stronger?"

"Sure," Lighter said. He indicated Red as he added, "We've only been together for a few days and I feel a lot stronger already. I did get you pretty good just now, didn't I?"

The Pidgey went quiet for a moment, then spoke up: "I'll come with you, then." He looked at them cautiously. "Though something tells me I wouldn't have had much of a choice either way."

"You won't regret this," Red assured him. "Welcome to the team, Lindy."

After they found their way back onto the path, making it to Viridian was as simple as retracing their steps from last time. With Lighter hitching a ride on his shoulders and Lindy safe in a Poké Ball, Red had been able to quickly navigate the northbound trail. This time, they beelined for the Pokémon Center, which was located on the main street of downtown Veridian.

The interior of the red-roofed building could only be described as bigger on the inside. The lobby was spacious and brightly lit, with ample seating forming an archipelago of vinyl islands in a sea of yellow tile. Trainers chatted with one another, and Pokémon of all kinds played and relaxed throughout the open space. Red eyed some of the signage on the wall, which informed him that the escalator upstairs led to temporary sleeping quarters for traveling trainers.

The receptionist, outfitted in a pastel-colored uniform, greeted Red with a cheerful smile at the counter. "Welcome to the Viridian City Pokémon Center, where we restore your tired Pokémon to full health. Would you like–"

Woodenly, he nodded, and handed over both Poké Balls without another word.

The receptionist's smile faltered for a moment. "Oh, er, thank you. It'll be just a few minutes, if you wanna sit down over there." She gestured towards a waiting-room section off to the side, separate from the center's main lounge. A PC cabinet cast a bluish glow in the corner. "Your number is 258. We'll call you up shortly."

Red approached the computer. A young woman stood over the PC, typing intently at the keyboard. Upon catching him in her peripheral, she turned around, allowing Red to get a proper look at her. She absentmindedly adjusted her glasses upon making eye contact. Her mousy hair was streaked with bright blue and tied back sloppily in a bun. Hi! I'm TEALA, read the nametag pinned to her grey "Tech Support" t-shirt. "Whoops," the woman said, "sorry, kid. Did you need to use the PC?"

Red wasn't following. "For…?"

Teala's eyes lit up. "The Pokémon Storage System, duh! Or, y'know, Bill's PC to the laymen. If you catch more than six of the little guys, all the extra ones get turned into data and sent to chill out in the cloud."

"...Bill?"

"Sonezaki, the kid from Johto. They say he might be the youngest person ever to receive an Indigo Innovator's Award for his achievements in computer programming. Without him we would never have been able to store Pokémon digitally on a mass scale." Her tone was almost reverent. "It might not make sense to somebody who's just starting out, but it's crazy just how much this guy's work has changed the world in only a couple of years."

Wait, how did she know he was a beginner? Was he really that clueless?

She returned to the computer briefly to save her progress before removing a flashdrive from the cabinet's port and pocketing it. "Sometimes it kinda feels like playing Creator, in a way. Compressing consciousness into a string of zeroes and ones. Fortunately it doesn't hurt the critters at all– or so I'm told, anyway. No way to know for sure."

Red remembered Lighter's description of the inside of a Poké Ball. He wondered, for a moment, if being stored inside a computer was anything like that.

"Plus, Bill's the reason I even have this job," Teala mentioned with a chuckle. "After all, somebody's gotta be on call for all of these bug fixes."

"Number 258, please," came a voice from the loudspeaker. "Number 258 to the counter."

Grateful for his out from yet another conversation with a stranger, Red made haste in the direction of the counter. He collected his Pokémon from a different Pokécenter employee, who chirped out a "We hope to see you again!"

It was the perfect day for a walk through the city; the late afternoon breeze was pleasantly warm and there wasn't a single cloud in the sky. The team proceeded down the sidewalk together, with Lindy perched on Red's left shoulder and Lighter right beside them. Occasionally, a car or bike would whiz past on the road.

Things got more interesting, however, once they made it a few blocks north. As they rounded the corner, they were accosted by a chorus of voices doing what sounded like chanting, though Red couldn't identify anything being said. Hold on, he realized, isn't that the Gym? Not quite sure what else to do, he approached the growing crowd.

Upon further examination, Red quickly realized why so many people had gathered in front of the Gym building; he had wandered straight into the middle of a demonstration. Everywhere he looked, he saw a protest sign. Open Up Viridian Gym! read one. Another: Save Our City. Still more: Who is the REAL Leader? Stop League Corruption!

An elderly man, bearded and balding, stepped to the front of the crowd. He was greeted with a round of whooping and clapping and brandished a megaphone. "The people of Viridian City demand transparency from their Gym Leader!" the old man shouted. "The recent rise in crime throughout Kanto has shown us just how little we can trust our so-called 'protectors.' A Gym Leader's responsibility is to help citizens feel safe and secure, but for the entire year since his instatement, our Leader has shown us nothing but radio silence! Few have even been permitted entry into the building, with even fewer being able to earn an Earth Badge. We barely even know who this guy is." He raised a fist into the air. "Shame on him for his apathy, and shame on the Pokémon League for allowing this obvious abuse of power! What is the purpose of a regulatory body that fails to implement any kind of regulations?"

The crowd erupted in agreement. Red couldn't help but be a little disappointed; this protest would definitely kill their chances of a Gym challenge anytime soon, but based on the townspeople's frustration it would still have been extremely unlikely even if he had come at a different time.

With access to the Gym decidedly off-limits, the party of three turned their attention westward to Route 22 instead. After all, the only thing cooler than seeing a Pokémon Gym was seeing the Pokémon League Headquarters– that was just common sense, or at least Red thought so. Before they could reach the gate, though, there was some wilderness to get through.

The initial leg of their journey began peacefully. For a while, the team made their way through the grassland without incident. This wasn't permanent, however. Abruptly, they were startled by a sudden and unfamiliar sound– the roar of a wild Pokémon. "You're on my territory," a voice growled.

Then, Red saw it; the figure was a knee-high daub of whitish fur, with a round snout and a long tail that whipped about in agitation. A Mankey, he realized. He'd never seen one so close– young children in Pallet were always warned to keep their distance from the fighting-types. Not taking his eyes off the Pokémon, he fumbled for the Pokédex in his pocket.

The Mankey spat at them, then pounded a fist against her chest. "Hey! I said, you're on my territory! And you have about five seconds to get off my territory before I tear you to shreds!"

Lighter was unimpressed by this display. "Yeah? How about we give you five seconds to–"

He wasn't even able to complete his remark before the Pig Monkey Pokémon sprung into action, swiftly unsheathing her claws and knocking him to the ground with a loud screech. Before he had the chance to react, she was sinking said claws into his scaly flesh. The Charmander retaliated with an Ember attack, exhaling a fireball directly into the wild Pokémon's face. As the acrid smell of burnt hair filled the air, the wild Mankey aimed another Scratch, this time at Lighter's head. Once she had a grip, she repeatedly bashed his head against the ground.

"Throw the ball!" the fire-type cried. "Throw the ball, throw the ball!" Quickly, Red obliged, pitching a Poké Ball at the simian creature. There was a red flash as the Mankey disappeared into the ball, and the three others all watched in intense, nail-biting silence as it tumbled to the ground. The Poké Ball rocked once, twice, three times…

Then, miraculously, it stopped. Red couldn't keep himself from letting out an excited, celebratory cheer. Lighter dropped to the ground, sighing in relief.

Since Red had the chance, he read the description that had finally appeared on the screen of his Pokédex: #056 - Mankey, Pig Monkey Pokémon. Light and agile on its feet, and ferocious in temperament. When angered, it flies into an uncontrollable frenzy. Great, that information would have been a little more useful a minute ago.

Once everyone had a minute or two to catch their breath, Red carefully approached the ball and picked it up. Fighting to keep his hand from shaking, he pushed the center button, causing the Mankey to materialize onto the grass. Once the initial bright light had faded, though, she wasted no time in immediately grappling Lighter and threatening him: "You stupid little wretch! Give me one reason why I shouldn't call for my entire troop to come and destroy you right here and now."

"Easy there," the lizard warned, dribbling blood from his mouth. "I thought Mankey were supposed to be warriors. Don't you owe a little more respect to an opponent that bested you in battle?"

"Please," she snapped, letting go of him. "You were practically begging for mercy. If it weren't for your pet human's intervention, I'd have clawed your organs out of your ribcage by now."

"That's enough, you two," Red interrupted. He sprayed one of his Potions on Lighter's wounds, causing the Charmander to hiss in discomfort. Rapidly, the bleeding claw marks on his face, neck, and body scabbed over before fading completely.

The Pig Monkey Pokémon buffed out some of the singe marks in her fur. "I know what your kind do. You trounce through our habitat, destroying everything in your wake. You pave a road through our home to build a monument to how great you are. How strong. I'd do anything to show those people what real strength is. I'd die for it."

Red thought about the protest, the electricity in the air as the crowd all raised their voices at the same time. "I think you could show them. I'd help you."

"And how would you prove to me that you're any different from them? "

"I can't. But I do know what it's like to want something. And I know we could both get what we want a lot easier if we worked together."

"He has been pretty nice to us," Lindy piped up. "He even gave us names."

"Oh!" She feigned a sarcastic, over-the-top delight. "He gives out names? Why didn't you tell me sooner?" The Mankey looked at Red with an impish expression. "So you've got a name for me? Out with it, then. And it better not be stupid."

The boy wracked his brain. "Uh– I was thinking… would you like being called Rousey?"

The Mankey pondered his offer for a moment; much to his surprise, she seemed to actually be considering it. "Hm… that's not too bad, I suppose. Makes it sound more like I'm your equal, not your pet."

"Maybe even my friend?" he suggested.

Her expression turned cold. "Hmph. I wouldn't go that far, human. I only trust you as far as I can throw you."

Red was just glad she trusted him at all. Based on that Pokédex entry and their first impression, Rousey seemed like she was going to be a rather difficult individual. That being said, it felt much better to have her as an ally rather than a potential enemy.

"The Charmander is too trusting of you," Rousey remarked, engaging her newfound teammate in what could only be described as serious side-eye. "Too eager to please. It's sad. Look at him, he's practically domesticated."

Lighter scowled at her. "I can hear you, you know that, right?"

Rousey snorted out a laugh. "That's exactly what I was hoping for."

They continued forward, finally seeing the road come into view after a long stint of walking. The path was well-maintained and made of stone, framed with neatly-trimmed hedges. It was far from a pleasant sight, however; there, silhouetted in the setting sun, was Blue Oak, unmistakeable.

"Oh, hey Redwood," he said, far too casually. "What brings you here?"