Chapter 1

Emmet Grant lay in his bed, fast asleep. His dark red hair and bright blue eyes hidden in the realm of dreams. Having just turned 15, the minimum age for a Pokemon journey, the excitement of receiving his first Pokemon from Professor Oak was set to unfold in the morning.

Suddenly, his sleep was anything but peaceful. Emmet's body convulsed violently in the sheets, his skin radiating heat. His eyes snapped open wide, filled with fear and agony, as if he was about to scream.

However, no scream escaped. A surreal, golden mist floated briefly before his eyes, zapping into his skull. The pain inside his head intensified exponentially, and despite his desperate attempts, his voice produced no sound. He felt something inside him struggling against the mysterious golden mist before the invader started to break down and be absorbed.

A flood of fragmented memories assaulted him. These were visions of a boy from another world—a world where Pokemon existed only as games and TV shows. Strangely, he recognized the animated show's main character, Ash Ketchum, but saw no sign of himself in these otherworldly broadcasts.

Alongside these visions, Emmet caught glimpses of the boy's death in a car crash and cryptic conversations with an elusive entity. The memories were progressively muddled, but he heard mentions of a mysterious power called "Efficiency Mastery" and something about the merging of souls.

As the excruciating pain started to wane, Emmet felt a fundamental shift within his body, mind, and soul. He deduced that the deceased boy had attempted a soul takeover that failed, leaving Emmet with lingering memories—especially those relevant to his own world—and potentially God-given powers.

Despite the incredible events that unfolded, Emmet realized he was lying in a mixture of sweat and urine. He felt an overwhelming exhaustion, unlike anything he'd experienced before.

Aware of his mother's absence until later the next day, Emmet felt a wave of relief wash over him. He'd have time to clean up and process everything before her return. With that thought, his eyes grew heavy, and he found himself irresistibly drifting back to sleep.

Emmet woke up abruptly, gasping for air. He glanced over his body before jumping out of bed, disgusted by the sheets that clung to him. Swiftly, he stripped off his pajamas, grabbed the soiled linens, and tossed them into the washing machine. Taking a whiff of his own armpit, he scowled in revulsion.

Into the shower he went, letting the hot water stream down over him. As he stood there, he patted himself all over, even pinching in some places, to see if he could detect any changes. He felt the same as always—physically, at least. A thought flashed through his mind: could he perhaps tap into psychic abilities like some trainers he'd seen in Saffron City?

With that idea, Emmet turned his palm toward a bottle of shampoo sitting on a ledge. He focused, willing the bottle to levitate. For what seemed like a comically long time, nothing happened. Then, an alien nudge whispered in his mind, instructing him to adjust his focus and flex his mental muscles in a specific manner.

Emmet hesitated. The alien nudges were strong, almost like instinct, but their strangeness gave him pause. After a moment's deliberation, he gave in, letting go of his apprehensions and surrendering to this newfound guidance.

To his immense surprise, the shampoo bottle twitched. His initial elation was tempered by new nudges telling him what he'd done wrong. Trusting these newfound instincts, he adjusted his focus and the bottle started floating, albeit shakily.

The internal nudges continued, each one fine-tuning his ability further. "So this is what 'Efficiency' means," he muttered to himself. His newfound power, 'Efficiency Mastery,' was fast-tracking his learning process. He felt certain there was more to it, but he was too engrossed in this exciting discovery to explore further.

Lost in the wonder of it all, Emmet allowed objects around the bathroom to float. That is, until the blaring alarm from his bedroom shattered his focus. Everything dropped to the floor, creating a cluttered mess that he would have to deal with later.

"I'm going to be late for Oak!" he shouted, hastily exiting the bathroom. As he threw on some clothes, he found even this simple act was becoming a subject for his newfound efficiency. Mental nudges prompted him to button faster, to tie quicker.

Snapping out of his amazement over something as mundane as dressing, Emmet made a mental note to rein in this power for less trivial tasks.

Rushing towards the lab, he wondered if his abilities could also make him run faster. Activating his power, he not only felt nudges on pacing and limb movement but also a warming, possibly strengthening, sensation in his muscles. However, the experiment was brief and left him with a rumbling stomach.

Feeling the drain, he made another mental note: this power seemed to consume nutrients at an accelerated rate. Eating soon would be essential, lest he find himself starving while tapping into these mysterious abilities.

As Emmet approached Professor Oak's laboratory, he glanced at his watch and realized he was early—by a full thirty minutes. Unwilling to be an inconvenience, he took a seat on a nearby bench to catch his breath and collect his thoughts.

Setting aside his excitement over his newfound abilities, Emmet turned his focus to the fragmented memories from the soul that had attempted to merge with his. He noted that his world was more aligned with the Pokemon TV show than with the video games. However, even there, significant differences stood out.

In the TV series tailored for a younger audience, the show glossed over key details like the minimum age for trainers and the actual dangers of a Pokemon journey. Unlike in the show, Emmet, along with Ash, Gary, and Leaf, had spent years preparing for this day, passing all of Professor Oak's stringent tests to earn his sponsorship. Well, that was mostly true for him, Gary, and Leaf; Ash was a different story. He was a bit slow, smarter than his TV counterpart but noticeably less so than the other three.

"Maybe that's why Oak is giving him a simple Pikachu," Emmet mused to himself.

His thoughts shifted toward more grave matters—the rising threat of Team Rocket in the Kanto region. He'd seen snippets on the news about Pokemon kidnappings, but with his newfound memories, he realized the depth of the threat was far more severe than he'd originally thought.

A single name escaped from his lips, tinged with an unmistakable note of fear: "Mewtwo."

What could he do? The thought of going to the police crossed his mind, but who would believe a wild tale about Giovanni leading Team Rocket and creating a monstrous clone of Mew? What sort of danger would he be putting himself and his mother into by revealing such secrets?

"No," he resolved, shaking his head. He wouldn't take this to the authorities; instead, he'd strengthen himself, preparing to face the looming dangers. Not because he fancied himself a hero, but because, if the shows and games were any indication, the official channels were inept at best. An eleven-year-old Ash seemed to solve every crisis in the TV series.

That led him to another unsettling thought. Could he rely on Ash, given the stakes? The answer was a resounding no. He couldn't leave things to chance. He decided to use his new powers and what he knew of the future to assemble a powerful team of Pokemon. The loss of his father in a Mt. Moon Pokemon rampage years ago had left a mark. He couldn't—wouldn't—risk his mother, a Ranger like his late father, falling victim to some dark scheme cooked up by Team Rocket

Emmet's introspective moment was shattered by an unexpected cough beside him. Startled, he whirled around, only to find himself under the scrutinizing gaze of Professor Oak. The scene was so comical it was as if Emmet had just been caught scribbling love notes in class.

"I didn't know you were psychic, Emmet," Professor Oak said, clearly amused by Emmet's surprised expression.

Confused, Emmet looked around to find out what had given him away. Professor Oak's eyes shifted pointedly to the small pebbles levitating around Emmet. He had been so lost in thought that he had absentmindedly exercised his new psychic prowess.

"Uh, it's a recent development," Emmet replied, feeling somewhat embarrassed.

Professor Oak smirked. "That level of control is often found in natural psychics," he observed, casting a sidelong glance at Emmet.

Caught off guard and unable to conjure up an excuse, Emmet shrugged. Hoping to steer the conversation away, he blurted out, "Can I choose my Pokemon now? I'm eager to start my journey."

Still smirking, Professor Oak clearly noticed Emmet's clumsy attempt to change the subject. The tension was palpable until the Professor chuckled and said, "Alright, follow me." Emmet released a sigh of relief as he trailed behind Oak.

They walked past the reception area and deeper into the laboratory, entering a section Emmet had never seen before—not even when he used to visit as a child to play with Gary.

The room they entered was filled with an array of scientific paraphernalia and bustling aides. Emmet's eyes, however, were immediately drawn to a raised pedestal at the center of the room, where three Pokeballs lay. Each Pokeball had an emblem engraved on it: Fire, Water, and Grass. Charmander, Squirtle, Bulbasaur—it was clear what each emblem signified.

Professor Oak, noticing Emmet's gaze fixated on one of the Pokeballs, asked, "Have you made your choice? Choose wisely."

"But what about Gary and Leaf? Is it alright for me to choose before them?" Emmet queried.

The Professor replied, "You're the sponsored trainer with the highest overall grades; you get first pick. It doesn't matter if the others haven't arrived yet."

With a nod, Emmet stepped forward and carefully picked up the Pokeball with the flame emblem. Just as he was about to open it, Professor Oak interrupted, "Before you settle, I must tell you that this Charmander is the youngest of the group. I recommend you spend at least a couple of weeks training her before you attempt any Gym Challenges."

"Is her age a problem for battling?" Emmet inquired.

Professor Oak explained, "She's only a few weeks old and still building her energy reserves. During this period, it would be prudent to focus on her control over Fire and Normal-type energies. Fire, because most Charizard moves fall under that category, and Normal, because it forms the foundational energy for all types."

Overwhelmed with gratitude, Emmet thanked Professor Oak for both the invaluable tips and his new Pokemon. As he opened the Pokeball, a radiant light burst forth, revealing a tiny Charmander who cheerfully cried out, "Char! Char!"

The Charmander was undeniably cute, with big round eyes that glittered with youthful curiosity. Her orange scales were pristine, glowing softly under the laboratory lights. A small flame flickered at the tip of her tail, signifying her good health. The way she looked up at Emmet seemed to be filled with both eagerness and a trace of nervousness, as if she was afraid of being rejected.

Dropping to one knee to level himself with the small Charmander, Emmet introduced himself as Emmet Grant, an aspiring Pokemon Trainer with lofty ambitions. "I aim to conquer the Pokemon League on my first try," he said earnestly. "Would you like to be my partner on this journey? I promise to help you reach heights that few Charizards have ever attained. I'll do my best to be not just the best Trainer but also the best friend you could ever hope for." Extending his hand, he waited anxiously, wondering if she would accept his heartfelt offer.

Charmander seemed momentarily overwhelmed but quickly processed Emmet's words. Ignoring his outstretched hand, she leapt at him, shouting her name in enthusiastic agreement as she wrapped her tiny arms around him in a hug.

Caught off guard but encouraged by Professor Oak's approving gaze, Emmet hugged the tiny lizard back. "We'll talk more in a bit to plan our next steps," he assured her as they separated. With that, he returned her to her Pokeball, anticipating the adventures ahead.

As Charmander vanished into her Pokeball, Emmet felt a peculiar connection, like a thread of energy linking his soul to hers. It was a sensation he had never felt before, a sense of oneness that hinted at their nascent bond.

Professor Oak then pulled a red device from his pocket and handed it to Emmet. "This is a Pokedex," he said. "It serves as an encyclopedia, a map, and a scanner. It will record data on every Pokemon you encounter, analyze their abilities, and even guide you through the regions with its built-in GPS. Remember to keep it updated; the information it gathers is invaluable to researchers like me."

Emmet thought for a moment before asking, "Could you remind me of my major responsibilities as a sponsored trainer?"

Professor Oak looked at him seriously. "As a sponsored trainer, I expect you to be diligent, respectful, and to provide your Pokemon with proper care. Additionally, utilize the Pokedex to gather as much data as you can. The more Pokemon you scan, the better. Scanning multiple individuals of the same species can offer insights that wouldn't be apparent from a single scan. The data you collect is not just for you; it contributes to the broader scientific community."

"Thank you for everything, Professor Oak," Emmet said, his eyes reflecting gratitude and anticipation. "I promise to make good use of the Pokedex and to give my best out there."

"Ah, Emmet, before you go, listen closely," Professor Oak began, shifting into a more serious tone. "I will be eagerly awaiting your reports every two weeks to gauge your progress. It's essential that you make a point to stop by a Pokemon Center in each city you visit. Your Pokemon need their health to be consistently monitored, especially your young Charmander. Her age makes it imperative that she gets through regular check-ups to ensure she is growing strong and healthy."

"Understood, Professor," Emmet responded, a little surprised at the unusual requirement of regular reports but choosing to put it at the back of his mind for now. He nodded to a few familiar aides he had met over the years before exiting the laboratory, his heart full of eagerness and determination.

The moment Emmet stepped out, Professor Oak pulled a notepad from his pocket. With a pen in hand, he jotted down something, his face thoughtful and serious as he scribbled.

Just then, a tall Alakazam appeared next to the Professor, teleporting in with a soft "whoosh." The aides momentarily paused their work to gaze at this legendary Pokemon. Everyone knew that Oak had once been the Indigo Champion before Pryce, who was himself a predecessor to the current champion, Lance.

The people of Pallet Town had grown up with stories of how Champion Oak had put an end to a fierce war between Kanto and Johto, establishing a unified league he dubbed the Indigo League. His sudden retirement to the sleepy town had been a shock that left the entire region puzzled. Yet nobody questioned him; his battle prowess was still the stuff of legends, and no one would dare challenge him.

Tearing the sheet he'd just written on from his notepad, Oak handed it to the Alakazam beside him. "Please deliver this to Elite Four Agatha," he said, his voice devoid of its earlier joviality.

Alakazam made a grunting sound, clearly not thrilled at the prospect of nearing the Ghost-type specialist. Nonetheless, it nodded and disappeared in a teleportation flash.

Returning to his normal demeanor as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred, Professor Oak resumed his duties. The aides, sensing the gravity of the moment, also returned to their tasks, choosing not to comment on the peculiar event that had just unfolded.