Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this story other than the MC.
Disclaimer 2: I take a lot of inspiration from other fanfictions on this website for this story, especially Scuttling Mob by Just spaced and Pokemon Jordino Version by Jordino
P.S: RookVibadag is a Danishy Sigma! ( I'm never removing this!)
"Alright, everyone! Please make your way to the next room! Your starter Pokemon are ready for you."
Hearing the voice call out from the overhead speakers in the room's corners, I lethargically made my way off the couch I was lying on and moved with the other dozen prospective trainers towards the back room.
"I wonder what Pokemon they got for us?"
"I hope there are cool Pokemon for us, like Scyther, or Rhyhorn!"
"Why would they get such rare Pokemon for us, you dumbass? Leader Erika probably just got us some grass types like Oddish and whatnot."
I ignored all the scattered conversations around me, taking the last piece of Chansey gum from the packet in my pocket and chewed on it as I meandered into the next room, reflecting upon my time in this bloody cartoon world.
One minute I was going to sleep after a long day of work-Or… at least I think I was? Those last memories are hazy on the best of days- and in the next clear moment, I was 8 years old, short as shit and laying down on a bed in the Celadon City orphanage.
Was my being sent here the result of some ROB? Hoopa? Arceus? I didn't have a goddamn clue. If there was some secret puppet master involved in my being here, they had elected to stay completely silent on the matter.
Although, if I was being honest, I stopped thinking about such things a while back. My staying here seemed permanent so I resolved myself to make the best of it.
After a brief meltdown over my predicament, I tasked myself with finding out any useful information about my situation.
From what it seems like, this world is some weird cross between the games and the anime. Most of the stuff seemed like the anime world, with the Indigo Plateau conference existing. I was even able to find out Ash's age, him being five years away from starting out on his journey,
(The starting age for trainers was 15 in this world instead of 10.) What notified me of it being a mix of the games was the Red rumour online.
As stupid as it sounds, there's a large rumour mill online about a young trainer known only as 'Red', who, almost a decade ago, blitzed throughout the whole gym circuit in his first year and proceeded to dominate the Indigo Plateau conference without a single pokemon fainting. Anything beyond that point is mere speculation, but rumour states that this 'Red' went on to win the elite four challenge and defeat champion Lance, only to hand the title back to him and disappear.
Besides that, there is no other information about him. Location, age, place of birth, relatives, there were barely even any pictures of the guy, only a few snapshots from when he won the Indigo Plateau.
So yeah, Red existed in the world, meaning he was probably bumming it about on the top of Mt. Silver, living in solitude with his Pokemon.
Strangely enough, while Red existed, there was no mention of Blue anywhere, although I did find Gary Oak in some pictures with Professor Oak.
In addition, Giovanni was still a gym leader, and Team Rocket was just considered a minor street gang currently, meaning during his journey, Red hadn't outed them yet as the major terrorist threat they were.
Following my information gathering, I did the next logical thing and decided to figure out how to become a Pokemon trainer.
The first thing I learned was that I frustratingly wouldn't be able to get any of the regional starter Pokemon. They were bougie as fuck, and there were only two real ways of getting one that didn't involve incredible luck.
The first way was paying an exorbitant amount of money to get one or be one of the three hand-picked students of the Regional Pokemon professor, both options were simply unfeasible for me. Getting a Pokedex was also not possible for similar reasons.
So, I instead followed the path that everyone else takes to become a trainer, which is to pass the trainer exam.
Once turning 15, every person throughout all the regions can apply for the trainer exam, and passing the test rewards you with the trainer license, which grants you access to catch Pokemon. If a person shows sufficient competence during the exam, they earn the opportunity to be given a starter Pokemon from the Pokemon league, with the city's gym leader handing out the Pokemon.
Suffice to say, with previous knowledge of the world supporting me and a full seven years spent absorbing every piece of knowledge about Pokemon that I could, I not only earned the chance to get a starter Pokemon, but also aced the test.
Fast forward a couple of days later, and here I was, with the few other people throughout all of Celadon city who were determined to be skilled enough to be granted a Pokemon by the city's gym leader, Erikia, the grass-type gym leader.
The sound of multiple gasps ringing throughout the room broke me from my thoughts. I looked up to see the aforementioned gym leader herself, standing next to her Vileplume and two aids.
A relaxed smile stretched across her face as her emerald eyes surveyed us all, her arms crossed in front of her traditional kimono.
"Welcome, trainers-to-be," she began, her gaze lingering on each of us as if to imprint our faces in her memory. "Today marks the beginning of your journey, a path filled with challenges and wonders alike."
Her aides, clad in attire that mirrored the natural hues of the Celadon Gym, stepped forward, each holding a tray with dozens of Poké Balls. The room fell silent, the air thick with expectation. Erika nodded, and with practised grace, her aides released the clasps on the containers.
The aides released the clasps on the containers with practised grace, and a dozen Pokémon emerged. The room buzzed with excitement as Oddish, Bellsprout, a couple of Pidgey and Spearow, and a lone Geodude materialized in front of us.
Gasps and murmurs filled the air as the prospective trainers approached the Pokémon, trying to gauge which one they connected with. Some of the trainers immediately gravitated towards the familiar grass types, their eyes lighting up.
I watched from a distance, my gaze drifting from one Pokémon to another. My attention was inexplicably drawn to a lone Geodude sitting off to the side. Unlike the other Pokémon, which were interacting curiously with the new trainers, the Geodude looked bored, its eyes sharp and alert.
Curiosity piqued, I made my way toward Erika, who was observing the interactions with a serene smile. I cleared my throat to catch her attention.
"Excuse me, Gym Leader Erika?" I asked, making sure to keep my voice tentative.
Her gaze shifted to me, her smile warm and inviting ( Man, she really gave me stoner vibes). "Yes, Dear, how can I help you?"
I pointed towards the Geodude. "I noticed that there's a Geodude among the starters. I thought you mainly had Grass-type Pokémon here."
Erika's eyes followed my gesture, landing on the Geodude. "Ah, yes. Geodude is an exception. This particular one was found not too far from Rock Tunnel, alone and fiercely fighting off two Raticates. It was brought to our gym for care and rehabilitation, and he's been here for the last three years."
She turned her full attention back to me, her expression thoughtful. "Geodude is quite the fighter— he's very stubborn and battle-hungry. It's not a typical choice for a starting Pokémon here; people prefer going with the familiar grass types, but I believe it has the potential to be a strong partner for the right trainer."
Looking back towards the Geodude, I immediately strode towards him, already rapidly assessing the rock type, trying to gleam if I could gain anything of use that could help me convince the rock type to join me.
I knelt, getting eye level with the Rock-type, and gave a small nod, acknowledging its rugged nature. "Hey there," I said quietly, careful not to overpay my interest. "Leader Erika says you're a fighter, yeah? You sure look like you've seen your fair share. Bet there's still a ton of battles left in you."
The Geodude's expression eased ever so slightly, and it expanded itself? I'd approximate its body language to a human puffing its chest out after receiving a compliment. Did it work? Press the attack!
I held out my hand, palm up, a silent offer. "I'm looking for a partner who's got grit—a Pokémon who knows what it means to face challenges head-on. Think you're up for that?"
For a tense second, the Geodude simply stared, not a flicker of movement to show what it might do next. Then, with a gruff sort of grunt, it extended its rocky arm, pressing it firmly into my hand.
I watched as the Geodude was engulfed into a red light before vanishing in front of my eyes, being returned to a Pokeball I hadn't even realised I was tightly gripping. I turned to face Leader Erika, her smile becoming far wider than before.
Erika nodded approvingly, her serene gaze shifting between me and the PokéBall now resting in my hand. "You've chosen well," she said softly as if affirming a silent truth. "Geodude will be a reliable partner, though not an easy one for certain. I sense that both of you will grow from this partnership."
"Thank you, Leader Erika," I said, trying to keep my tone respectful, releasing a breath I didn't know I was holding. I was feeling so many emotions that it was hard to keep a straight face. Relief that my shoddy attempt at a sales pitch worked. A ball of anxiety stubbornly stayed in my gut despite Geodudes' acceptance of me being his trainer—joy about finally having a Pokemon.
Erika's smile softened, her eyes lingering on me for one more moment before turning to the rest of the other trainers. "Now that everyone has chosen their partners, remember—this is only the first step. Treat your Pokémon with respect, and they will grow alongside you. The path ahead is yours to shape."
I tightened my grip on the Pokeball even further, its weight in my palm feeling like a solid stone. This was it. No more waiting, no more stress-filled preparation, and no more toiling away for any spare change, which I could invest into anything that could prepare me for this moment. Just me, a Iron willed rock, and whatever the fuck comes next.
A smile broke its way onto my face, so wide I could feel every single one of my teeth barred out.
I couldn't wait.
Leaving the Celadon Gym, I took a deep breath of the city air—smog, perfume, and the faintest hint of grass from Erika's massive conservatory disguised as a place of battle. My fingers twitched around Geodude's Poké Ball, its weight in my pocket comforting and surreal.
I have a fucking Pokémon.
The thought still hadn't fully sunk in.
I didn't waste time celebrating. The sooner I got out of the city, the sooner I could start training. The League didn't hand out freebies—if I wanted to get anywhere, I'd have to bust my ass for it.
The first stop was clear: The Celadon Department Store.
The games didn't really do the massive neon-lit building justice, if I was being honest. It was as if a mega mall was compressed and then stacked vertically up into the air like a skyscraper. AC blasted my face as I entered its first floor, carrying both the sterile scent of new merchandise and the underlying smell of far too many people in one space. I wove my way through the tides of trainers debating TM purchases and spoiled rich kids whining for the latest pokedex, making my way straight to the only empty counter.
" Name's Cole", I told the Clerk, slapping my freshly minted trainer ID on the counter. "I got a reserve pickup".
The woman—early twenties with a Pikachu pin on his chest and the dead eyes of retail—barely glanced up as he retrieved my box. "One ten-pack of Poké Balls, two Potions, one Antidote, a dozen repels..." She paused at the last item. "Single Escape Rope. That it?"
"Yeah." I plopped a wad of Poke-Dollars on the table and snatched up my contraband before he could comment on my makeshift survival kit. It wasn't a legendary haul, but it was enough to start me off. The Poké Balls were obvious—more catches meant more options. The Potions and Antidote were just common sense. And the Escape Rope? Well, I wasn't planning on getting lost in any caves yet, but better safe than sorry.
The months of odd jobs—scrubbing the Celadon gym floors, restocking smaller pokemart chain shelfs, fucking ubering food for people, it had barely covered these essentials.
I stuffed the items into my bag, double-checked my gear, and finally—finally—headed for the city's northern exit.
The wild area north of Celadon wasn't much to look at—just rolling fields and patches of stubborn grass that refused to die in the city's shadow. But it was crawling with Pokémon. A Rattata darted across the path as I walked, while a trio of Pidgey pecked at something in the dirt. Basic shit.
I ignored them.
Celadon's northern route wasn't exactly a hotspot for strong Pokémon, but that was fine. The whole "level zones" thing from the games? Bullshit. Real life didn't work like that. Weak Pokémon were everywhere—Rattata, Pidgey, the occasional Weedle—because they bred fast and died faster. The strong ones? They either got caught by trainers or carved out their own little kingdoms deep in the wild, far from human roads.
But sometimes, you got lucky.
A few weeks before the exam, I'd been scouting areas outside the city, trying to get a feel for what was out there. That's when I saw him—a Spearow, tan feathers streaked with scars, who took on two Pidgey at once and won. No, won wasn't right, it dominated. While the Pidgey flapped around like idiots, this Spearow moved like a blade, dodging gusts and pecking with a brutal precision.
That was the kind of Pokémon I wanted on my team.
And now, with Geodude? I had the perfect counter.
The tall grass rustled as I crept forward, keeping low. Geodude hovered silently beside me, his usual gruff demeanor accentuated with a laser focus; he was zoned in on the hunt. We'd had a quick chat before leaving the city—turns out, the literal ball of stone already knew Rock Throw and Smack Down. Perfect for swatting birds out of the sky.
There.
Up ahead, the Spearow stood atop a fallen log, wings slightly spread as it glared down at a pair of Rattata trying to scurry past. The rodents flinched under its gaze, clearly weighing the risk of bolting.
Spearow didn't give them a chance.
It moved, a blur of tan and red, beak slamming into the first Rattata hard enough to send it tumbling. The second one turned to run—bad idea—and Spearow lunged, talons raking its back before it could escape, causing the vermin to let out a squeal of agony.
Jesus, this thing's vicious.
"Geodude," I whispered, nodding toward the scene. "Cheap shot first. Rock Throw right into its back. Then Smack Down if it tries to fly."
Geodude's eyes gleamed. He got it.
I took a breath.
"Now."
Geodude's arm snapped forward, and a jagged stone cracked through the air, slamming into Spearow's wing mid-pounce. The bird screeched, spinning around with fury in its eyes—just in time for Geodude to slam another rock downward, nailing it into the dirt so hard it bounced slightly from the impact.
Spearow, to its credit, thrashed wildly in an attempt to regain orientation, but Geodude was already on it, rolling forward and slamming into its side with a heavy tackle. The bird gasped, stunned, and I didn't hesitate—my arm swung, and the Poké Ball smacked into its chest.
One shake.
Two.
Click.
Silence.
Then— "Fuck yeah!" I snatched the ball off the ground, holding it up like a trophy. Geodude rumbled beside me, arms crossed, but I could tell he was pleased by his first performance under me. "That was clean, dude. Textbook ambush."
I turned the ball over in my hand, feeling the weight of it. Spearow. My second Pokémon.
Not bad for my first day of the next Champion of the Pokemon league.
But I couldn't rush off just yet from Celadon, despite my desire to get out of the city and start adventuring for real. This Spearow was strong—way stronger than any normal wild Spearow had any right to be. If I trained it right, it could evolve into a Fearow fast, and that'd give me a serious edge. Geodude was a tank, a bruiser that could take hits from Pokemon way above its weight class and keep on trucking.
But a Fearow? That was mobility; that was reach.
I glanced Further North, toward the distant shadow of Mt. Moon, its peak visible even from this distance. Plenty of stronger Pokémon out there. Plenty of trainers to battle with to boot.
But for now? This was enough.
I smirked.
"Alright, let's go get stronger."
Disclaimer 3: I am entirely motivated by praise and affection, so favoriting, Following, and reviewing make me far more inclined to update the story. However, if time permits I should be back with another chapter in a week or two regardless.