Chapter 1: The Deal Begins

The soft scritch of pen on paper filled the small space of my room. I hunched over my desk, the glow of the lamp barely cutting through the darkness. My hand moved, almost on autopilot, scrawling words across the page. 

I had been at this for an hour—maybe more—trying to put my thoughts into something that made sense. 

Tomorrow was a big day, and I wasn't ready. Or maybe I was. Maybe I just didn't want to think about how much was going to change.

Behind me, the soft patter of paws on carpet pulled me out of my thoughts. I turned, my lips quirking into a half-smile. 

Growlithe, his orange fur practically glowing in the dim light, was batting around a ball with his nose, tail wagging happily as he played. 

His energy was boundless, even now. I guess he didn't have any nerves about tomorrow. 

Lucky him.

I turned back to my diary and scratched out another line, trying to shake the feeling twisting in my stomach. 

The door creaked open behind me, and my grip on the pen tightened.

"Mom," I groaned, barely glancing over my shoulder. "Do you ever knock?"

Clara Oliver stepped into the room like she owned the place, one hand reaching down to ruffle Growlithe's fur. 

He immediately stopped playing to bask in the attention, tongue lolling out as if he hadn't just been trying to tire himself out five seconds ago. 

"Why should I?" she said with a teasing smile. "You hiding something, Will?"

I snapped the diary shut, placing my hand on it protectively. "Not really the point," I muttered, shoving it onto the desk. 

She raised an eyebrow at the movement, but didn't say anything. 

Instead, she wandered to the edge of my bed, sitting down like this was some kind of casual late-night visit and not a complete invasion of my last bit of privacy before... well, everything.

"You know," she said, brushing a loose strand of auburn hair from her face, "diaries are risky business. What if someone reads it?" She glanced toward the desk where I'd placed the book. "Might want to hide it somewhere safe."

I narrowed my eyes at her, still leaning back in my chair. "What are you really doing here, Mom? I was about to head to bed." 

She chuckled, like she found this whole thing amusing. "What, I can't stop in to see my son?"

I folded my arms. "Not when you're sneaking in like a Delcatty on the prowl."

Before I could react, she stood and closed the distance between us, wrapping me in her arms. 

I squirmed in her grasp. "Mom, c'mon," I groaned, fighting to get free. "I'm not a little kid anymore."

She gave me a playful squeeze, her voice soft but teasing. "You're ten. You're still my little boy."

"Ten and starting my Pokémon journey tomorrow," I muttered, though the fight in my words had less bite than I wanted. 

She let go of me, her hands trailing down to rest on my shoulders. I slumped back into the chair, avoiding her gaze. 

"I know," she said, her voice carrying a hint of something... serious. "Dad and I won't stop you. We never would. But you remember we're always with you, right?"

I nodded, not trusting my voice to say much. 

It was one of those things I didn't need to be reminded of but hearing it still made everything inside me twist up.

Mom eyed Growlithe, who was now sitting patiently on the carpet, watching the two of us like he knew something important was happening. "Are you sure you want to start your journey with him?" She pointed toward Growlithe. "You know your father could pull a few strings. Professor Oak would—"

I cut her off before she could finish. "Mom, we've talked about this. Growlithe was Dad's gift to me. We're starting this journey together."

She held up her hands in surrender, but I could see the worry still etched into her face. "Alright, alright. I just want to make sure you know what you're doing."

I stood, crossing the room to where Growlithe sat. 

Kneeling down, I ran my hand through his thick fur. "He's my partner," I said firmly. Growlithe gave a happy bark and leapt onto me, knocking me onto my back as he licked my face. 

"Hey, quit it!" I laughed, trying to push him off, but he was persistent. 

His rough tongue was relentless, and I found myself laughing harder despite the growing sense of uncertainty gnawing at me. 

For a second, everything felt normal.

Mom smiled, standing from the bed. "He won't live without you, though. You know that, right?"

I pushed Growlithe off and sat up, wiping my face with the sleeve of my hoodie. "Yeah, I know."

She made her way to the door, pausing with one hand on the frame. "Your father's getting everything ready for you tomorrow. Try to get some sleep, okay?"

I nodded. "I will. Goodnight, Mom."

"Goodnight, sweetheart," she called back softly before the door clicked shut behind her.

I exhaled, long and slow, turning off the lamp. 

The room was swallowed by shadows, the only sound the soft breathing of Growlithe as he curled up on the carpet by my bed. 

I flopped down onto my mattress, staring up at the ceiling, my thoughts racing a mile a minute. 

Tomorrow, everything would change. Whether I was ready or not.

"Here we go, buddy," I whispered into the darkness. Growlithe shifted beside the bed, a soft huff of air leaving his nose.

And then, silence.

---

I found myself sitting in a white room—no walls, no floor, no ceiling—just endless, blinding white. 

I blinked, squinting against the brightness, trying to make sense of my surroundings. 

My heart pounded in my chest, but when I looked down... nothing. I wasn't there. No hands, no legs, no body—just a formless presence.

Panic clawed at my throat, but I wasn't breathing. What the—? My mind raced. 

The chair beneath me didn't exist either, yet I sat in it, or at least, I felt like I did. 

Opposite me, a man—or something like a man—glowed with the same strange white light. 

His shape was blurry, but there was an undeniable energy pulsing from him. He sat relaxed, his arms casually draped over the armrests, as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

He spoke, his voice low and calm, like he had all the time in the universe. "You've come far, kid. Now, we can finish our deal. My side of things, at least."

"What... what is this?" My words echoed, yet my mouth hadn't moved—how could it? I had no mouth. 

No body. Panic flared again, hotter this time, and I tried to move, to stand, but nothing happened. I was stuck, trapped in whatever this place was.

The man—or the light being—chuckled. "What's wrong? You can't feel your body?" His voice was playful, almost mocking.

I glanced down again. Still nothing. I was nothing. Just... light. "Am I... dreaming? Did you use some kind of Pokémon move on me?"

The man leaned forward slightly, and I could almost see a smile forming in the glowing haze. "Why are you so sure you're not dead?"

"Dead?" My mind rejected the idea instantly. "I'm not sick. I was fine. I was just... I was asleep in bed." My voice quivered, just barely.

The man tilted his head, as though considering. "So?"

"So, it's a dream." I shot back, my voice firmer this time. "You did something to drag me here."

The man grinned, I could feel it. He clapped his hands slowly, mockingly. "Brave. Expected from someone like you. You've got your old self's spark." His words hung in the air, bizarre and unsettling.

I stared—or at least I felt like I stared, though I had no eyes to focus with. "Old self? What the hell are you talking about?"

He leaned back again, resting comfortably like we were sharing tea instead of this mind-bending conversation. "Reincarnation, Will. Your previous self made a deal with me. He wanted to be reborn in a world where Pokémon are real."

I froze. Reincarnation? Multiverses? The words didn't seem real. "Reincarnation?" I managed to say, my voice low. "So you're telling me I died? That I was someone else before this?" The disbelief coated my every word, and I hated how ridiculous it sounded. I wasn't buying any of it.

"I'm not here to prove anything to you," the man said, his tone suddenly sharp, cutting through the haze of confusion clouding my thoughts. "I'm here to finish a deal. Listen, and make your decisions."

My thoughts raced. Deals? Reincarnation? Multiverses? It had to be a dream—a vivid, messed-up dream. "Yeah, sure. Let's say I believe any of this." I shrugged, or tried to, forgetting for a moment I didn't have shoulders. "What's this deal, then?"

The man's chuckle echoed around me. "Your past self wanted to be reincarnated into a world with Pokémon. In exchange for... something, I granted that. You're the result."

"So I'm... reincarnated." The words felt foreign on my tongue, surreal. "What was the deal?"

"We don't have much time," the man interrupted, his tone shifting to something more urgent. "Part of the agreement was that you'd receive a... let's call it a cheat system. Every time you defeat a Pokémon, you'll earn points. You can use those points to buy items—Pokéballs, potions, even moves—from a special shop. It'll make you... exceptional."

A spark ignited in me. "Wait. You mean like, an actual system? Like a game?" I couldn't help the excitement creeping into my voice. "And I get to use it to become stronger?"

He smiled, satisfied. "Exactly. Every Pokémon you defeat earns you different points. Normal trainers' Pokémon give you one point, gym leaders' give you five, tournament Pokémon give you ten, and so on."

I nodded along, despite myself. "Okay... what about Elite Four and Champion Pokémon?"

"Twenty and forty points, respectively," he replied smoothly, as if rattling off some predetermined list. "There are other... exceptions. But you'll discover those yourself."

I could feel my pulse—if I had one—racing now. It was too good to be true. "And what about wild Pokémon? Do they give points?"

"No." His answer was final, almost dismissive.

I processed it, my mind spinning. "If you're going to throw all this at me, give me proof. Show me my previous life's memories." It was the only thing I could think of to ground myself, to make sense of everything.

The man's smile stretched wider. "I'll give you a choice. You can either have those memories... or you can take a permanent 50% discount on all items in the shop."

I froze. That wasn't the choice I expected. Memories... or power? I hesitated. Then I spoke without thinking. "Discount."

The man nodded, satisfied, his form fading back into the white light. "Then it's done. You'll learn the rest as you go." His voice grew faint, distant. "Good luck, Will."

Suddenly, the world around me began to blur, the light shifting into a soft haze. 

My eyelids grew heavy, drowsiness seeping in like a thick fog. 

The chair disappeared, the man disappeared, and I felt myself slipping away...

---

I jolted awake as something heavy landed square on my chest. 

The breath shot out of me in a startled grunt, and I blinked rapidly, trying to figure out what had just happened. 

A wet tongue dragged across my cheek, and I groaned, pushing at the warm, fuzzy body that was currently pinning me to my bed.

"Alright, alright, buddy. I'm up," I grumbled, wiping dog slobber off my face.

Growlithe barked in triumph, his tail wagging wildly as he bounded off me, giving me just enough space to breathe. 

I laughed, shoving him playfully to the side. He yipped again, tongue hanging out in pure joy. 

"Thanks for the wake-up call," I muttered, throwing the covers off and swinging my legs over the side of the bed. 

My feet hit the cool floor, and I stood, stretching out the knots in my muscles. 

The early morning light filtered through the curtains, bathing the room in a soft, warm glow. 

I walked over and yanked the curtains aside, squinting against the sudden brightness. 

Pewter City stretched out below, quiet and peaceful at this time of day. 

The gym, Brock's domain, stood like a fortress in the distance. 

A small smile tugged at my lips. One day, I'd be strong enough to take that gym on—maybe even get a badge to prove it.

But first, Growlithe needed a bath.

"Come on, fuzzball," I said, grabbing the scruff of his neck and dragging him towards the bathroom. 

He gave me a look—those big, brown eyes pleading for mercy—but I wasn't about to let him off the hook. "You smell like you've been rolling around in dirt all week."

He whined, digging his paws into the carpet, but I was stronger, and he knew it. 

With a grunt, I heaved him into the tub, ignoring his attempts to squirm free. 

Water splashed everywhere as I turned the faucet on, but I kept him pinned down, lathering the soap into his fur. 

He growled low in his throat, half-hearted and more for show than anything else.

"You'll thank me later," I muttered as I scrubbed the grime off him.

When I finally rinsed him off and wrapped him in a towel, he gave a little shake, sending droplets flying all over me. "Yeah, yeah, I love you too," I sighed, rubbing him down until he was dry enough to be let loose in the room. 

He bolted out of the bathroom, probably to sulk in a corner somewhere. I, on the other hand, quickly stripped and stepped into the shower.

The hot water felt like heaven, washing away the last bit of sleepiness clinging to me. 

As I stood there, letting the water run down my back, I couldn't help but think about my dad—how he used to train every morning before the sun even rose, pushing himself to be the best. 

The old photos of him on the walls of our restaurant flashed in my mind, his confident smirk as he held up trophy after trophy.

Was I ever going to live up to that? Would I ever be able to stand in front of a gym and feel like I belonged?

I shook the thoughts away and stepped out, wrapping a towel around my waist. 

I caught my reflection in the mirror—green eyes staring back at me, my chestnut hair sticking up in wild directions. 

I looked like a mess, but there was a flicker of determination there, just beneath the surface.

Drying off quickly, I changed into my usual outfit—a hoodie with a sketch of a Dragonite across the front and my favorite pair of cargo shorts. 

Ready for the day, I sat down at my desk, pulling out my journal. 

I flipped to a blank page, pen poised to write, when—

[Hello, master], a voice echoed in my mind, calm and clear. [I am the AI for your system, here to assist you.]

I froze, pen hovering mid-air. What… was that?

[You was not dreaming before] the voice continued, as if sensing my confusion. [You may now give me a name.]

I blinked, my thoughts racing. "So… this is real?"

[Yes, master.]

An AI? For a system? My head spun with a dozen questions, but none of them made sense.

"Alright then," I said slowly, leaning back in my chair. "Uh… how about 'Ariana'?"

[I like that name, master.]

Of course, she did. I sat there, dumbfounded, before glancing over at Growlithe. 

He cocked his head at me like I'd lost my mind, but that was nothing new.

"What can you do for me?" I asked, mostly to see if I hadn't gone completely crazy.

[I can assist you with all aspects of your system, master], Ariana replied smoothly. [Including Pokémon training.]

I perked up at that. "Okay… what moves does Growlithe know right now?"

[He currently knows Bite and Roar.]

That was it? Just two? My shoulders slumped. "How many points do we have?"

[Zero, currently.]

Great. I sighed. "And how many points do I need to teach him new moves?"

[For Pokémon between levels 1 and 20, you need 5 points to teach a move. Levels 21 to 50 require 20 points, and 51 or higher need 50 points.]

I drummed my fingers against the desk. "What moves can I teach him with 5 points?"

[Ember, Toxic, Body Slam, Double-Edge, Rage, Ariana listed.]

I nodded slowly. It wasn't much, but Ember could definitely come in handy. "Okay… I'll think about it."

Growlithe suddenly bolted for the door, his claws clicking against the floor. 

I shook my head, standing up and grabbing my bag. "C'mon, fuzzball," I called after him, "let's see what the day has in store for us."

And with that, I shut the light off and headed downstairs.