â Prof. Oak's Lab.
â [2:26 PM]
Warm sunlight streamed through the lab windows, catching the dust motes dancing in the air as I watched Ash wave goodbye. "Bye Prof. Oak!! Bye, Mom!! Bye, Everyone!! Thanks for coming to see me off!" His voice, brimming with characteristic exuberance, carried on the gentle Pallet Town breeze, mingled with the chirping of unseen Pokémon and the whisper of leaves. Trailing behind him, Pikachu, stubbornly resistant, was reluctantly towed along by a makeshift clothesline leash.
I released a soft sigh, a mixture of hope and paternal worry tightening my chest. They'll be alright. They have to be.
The small crowd of well-wishers soon dispersed, leaving Delia Ketchum standing beside me, a faint smile playing on her lips.
"He'll be just fine, Samuel," she said, her voice gentle, reassuring me as much as herself.
I chuckled, the sound a little drier than intended. "If you say so, Delia. Though, I did make a rather rash wager with Gary. A million PokéDollars riding on whether Ash catches more Pokémon than him before Viridian City."
Delia's eyebrows arched, a surprised laugh escaping her. "Oh my! Samuel! You didn't!"
"Couldn't resist," I admitted with a wry smile. "And truth be told, I was a little hesitant about giving him Pikachu. It has always been⦠temperamental since the time it arrived here. Prone to shocking anyone who gets too close. But Ash⦠he has that disarming openness. I'm betting on his nature winning Pikachu over eventually. Though," I added, glancing down the road where Ash had disappeared, "at this rate, 'eventually' might be quite a while before they even reach Viridian City."
Delia's smile softened, a wistful shadow crossing her features. Her gaze drifted, unfocused, and her voice dropped, tinged with a familiar melancholy. "He is his father's son, after all." The simple statement hung in the air, heavy with unspoken history.
The unspoken name â Red â settled between us like a physical weight. My own throat tightened, a familiar pang of guilt striking me.
"Speaking of whichâ¦" I began, then immediately regretted the direction of my words, seeing the subtle tightening around Delia's eyes. "â¦have you⦠heard any news? Any word at all on Red's whereabouts?" The question felt clumsy, intrusive, even to my own ears.
A visible shift occurred in her posture. The fleeting cheerfulness vanished, replaced by a familiar, quiet sorrow that seemed etched into her very being.
"Oh, Delia, forgive me. Careless of me to bring it up," I murmured, already regretting my ill-chosen words. The air around us seemed to thicken with unspoken grief.
"No, Professor, it's alright." She offered a small, almost brittle smile, a brave front against a persistent ache. "As for news about Red⦠No. Nothing. Other than that last message, five years ago⦠silence." Her voice trailed off, the silence that followed resonating with years of unanswered questions.
The unspoken plea â Have you forgotten him too? â hung in the air, though Delia herself would never voice it. My own unease intensified. I needed to steer this conversation away from the precipice of pain.
"Aha! Delia," I interjected, forcing a lighter tone, attempting to inject a warmth I didn't quite feel. "Would you⦠would you care for some tea? It's brewing in the lab, chamomile, your favorite, if I recall."
"Oh, Professorâ¦" Delia blinked, as if pulled back from a distant place. "Thank you, Samuel, that's kind of you. But⦠no, thank you. I really should get back. Chores, you know. And Mr. Mime gets lonely." She offered a nod, a fleeting ghost of her earlier smile, and turned to leave, a solitary figure walking back towards town.
"Later then, Delia," I called softly after her retreating form, the words feeling inadequate, hollow against the weight of unspoken grief.
I watched her go, the faint lines of worry around her eyes seeming more pronounced in the afternoon sun. Solo parenting⦠five years. An impossible weight for anyone to carry alone. Be safe, Red. For her sake, if not your own.
Turning back towards the lab, I remembered my promise to Alex. Sponsorship. Nurse Joy. Best to tackle that task now, before other distractions â or melancholic memories â consumed the rest of the afternoon. That boy⦠Alex. He seemed⦠capable. Surprisingly so, for someone with no memory. Perhaps it's just natural talent, amplified by⦠well, by whatever it is that makes some people connect with Pokémon so deeply. A spark. A gift. Whatever you call it, he has it.
I returned to the living room, the video phone console gleaming on the polished wooden surface. With a sigh that was still tinged with a lingering sadness for Delia, I accessed the contacts, scrolling to Nurse Joy's direct line at the Viridian City Pokémon Center and initiated the call.
Ring-Ring
Ring-Ring
The familiar cheerful chime echoed in the quiet lab. Then, Nurse Joy's bright, professional image materialized on the screen, her pink hair perfectly coiffed, her smile radiating practiced warmth.
"Hello, this is the Viridian City Pokémon Center. Nurse Joy speaking. How may I help you?"
"Hello, Ms. Joy, good afternoon. Samuel Oak here, calling from Pallet Town." I offered my most reassuring smile, hoping some of her professional cheerfulness might be contagious.
"Oh, Professor Oak! A pleasure as always! How are things in Pallet Town?" Her smile widened, genuinely welcoming.
"Doing well, Ms. Joy, thank you. Just wrapped up the Starter Pokémon distribution for today's new Trainers."
"Ah, excellent! Exciting times for them, no doubt. We'll be ready to welcome them in Viridian City. I'll make sure they know we're here if they need to heal their Pokémon, rest up before heading towards Pewter." Her professionalism was as unwavering as her smile.
"Much appreciated, Ms. Joy. That's very kind. And speaking of new trainers arriving⦠one of them is a young man named Alex. He chose a Pidgey as his starter, by the way." I made a mental note to subtly emphasize Alex's name in future communications; establishing his identity, however fragmented, felt important.
"A Pidgey, Professor?" Nurse Joy's smile faltered, a delicate eyebrow arching in perfectly sculpted skepticism. "Were you⦠perhaps running low on the Royal Starters today, Professor? You know, if you needed reserves, a quick call, and I could have dispatched a fresh set directly from Viridian." Her tone was light, almost teasing, but a hint of genuine professional concern underlay the words. Royal Starters being the pure-bred line of rare Fire, Water and Grass-type Pokémon.
"Well, even if I was technically out of⦠ah⦠additional Royal Starters," I hedged, forcing a chuckle, "it wouldn't have been quite appropriate in this instance. Alex is⦠sixteen. A bit beyond the usual Royal Starter age range, you see."
"You could have offered him a Pokémon from the Regular Set then, Professor," Nurse Joy pointed out, her tone still polite, but the skepticism now more pronounced. "If my records are correct, Pallet Town's Regular Starter selection typically includes Nidoranâï¸/âï¸, Abra, and Machop, does it not?" Her recall of protocol was, as always, impeccable.
"Yes, quite right. Normally, yes." I stalled, needing to choose my next words carefully. "But⦠Alex's case is⦠somewhat unique, Ms. Joy. He⦠he has amnesia." I decided to cut to the core of the unusual situation.
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"Amnesia?" Nurse Joy's perfectly painted eyebrows now furrowed in genuine concern.
"Yes. Complete memory loss. Remembers only his name, Alex Trent, and his age. Regional registry searches have turned up nothing concrete. We're essentially working with⦠a clean slate."
"An unknown identity case. Hmm." Nurse Joy's professional demeanor sharpened, her gaze becoming more focused, assessing. "Still, even withâ¦unusual circumstances, Professor, surely the Regular Set would have been appropriate? Forgive me for being direct, but⦠why wasn't it offered?" The polite veneer was thinning, replaced by a directness that bordered on professional⦠suspicion?
"Ehh heheheâ¦" I managed a weak, nervous chuckle, the sound definitely unconvincing even to my own ears.
Nurse Joy's eyes narrowed slightly, her gaze unwavering. "Out of Regular starters as well, Professor?" Her tone was now unmistakably laced with skepticism.
"Well⦠yes, alright, yes, technically, yes," I confessed, deflating slightly under her focused gaze. "Truthfully, Ms. Joy, yes, we were⦠facing certain⦠inventory constraints this morning. Unforeseen⦠logistical complexities." The 'logistical complexities' stretched thinner with each word.
"Logistical complexities," Nurse Joy repeated flatly, the words hanging in the air with unspoken disbelief. Then, she sighed, the professional mask softening just slightly, replaced by a hint of genuine concern. "Professor Oak," she said, her tone shifting to a more serious register, "I am concerned about Mr. Alex's⦠unique situation. Amnesia, unknown identity⦠Given these unconventional factors, are you certain sponsorship is still⦠advisable? Standard protocols⦠regulationsâ¦"
"Ah, a perfectly valid concern, Ms. Joy. Regulations are always paramount, of course." I nodded quickly, eager to preempt any outright rejection of my request. "But, with Alex, I truly believe his⦠circumstances warrant a degree of⦠flexibility. You see, despite the amnesia, despite the⦠lack of established background, I've witnessed something quite remarkable in him. A⦠a natural affinity for Pokémon. An almost instinctual understanding."
I leaned forward slightly, my voice taking on a more earnest, persuasive tone. "In our brief time together, I've observed a truly uncommon bond forming between him and his Pidgey. And beyond that⦠there's a certain⦠spark in him, Ms. Joy. A raw, untamed potential that's hard to quantify, but undeniable. Even as a complete novice, his understanding of Pokémon behavior, his⦠instinctive way of interacting with Ace⦠it suggests a natural talent far beyond what one would expect from someone just starting out. I truly believe, Ms. Joy, with proper guidance, with access to resources⦠Alex Trent has the potential to become truly exceptional. To make significant contributions to our community. He has a knack for this, a deep-seated⦠resonance with Pokémon, that amnesia can't erase."
I paused, letting my words sink in, before adding my final, persuasive flourish. "And of course, your sponsorship⦠it wouldn't be solely about aiding his journey. It would be⦠an investigation of sorts. Through his travels, through his interactions with the Pokémon world, we might⦠just might⦠uncover clues to his past. To his identity. The sponsorship could be⦠instrumental in piecing together the puzzle of his amnesia."
Nurse Joy's expression softened, her professional skepticism slowly receding, replaced by a thoughtful consideration. My carefully constructed appeal seemed to be landing. "I understand your perspective, Professor," she conceded, nodding slowly. "However, I will need to discuss this⦠unusual case⦠with Officer Jenny. Regulations, you understand. And consider the⦠implications of sponsoring a trainer with no documented identity. Can you at least assure me, Professor, that Mr. Alex himself is fully aware of the⦠risks and challenges inherent in this undertaking?"
I nodded, relief washing over me. "Absolutely, Ms. Joy. I've been completely transparent with Alex about the challenges ahead. And his response? Eagerness. Unwavering determination. He is⦠remarkably resilient, Ms. Joy. I genuinely believe he will make the very most of this opportunity."
Nurse Joy's lips curved into a softer, more genuinely warm smile. "Very well, Professor Oak. I will⦠initiate the sponsorship protocols. And I will notify Officer Jenny to expect a potential⦠'unidentified trainer' case. We will⦠proceed with caution, and⦠work together. To⦠uncover Mr. Alexâs past. And, of course, to ensure his safety."
"Thank you, Ms. Joy," I breathed, a genuine wave of relief washing over me. "Your support⦠it means a great deal. To Alex⦠and to myself."
"Alright, Professor." She nodded, the professional briskness returning, albeit tinged with a new hint of⦠curiosity? "And, purely out of⦠professional curiosity, Professor Oak, may I ask⦠what Pokémon, precisely, excluding the Pidgey, did you offer Mr. Trent to choose from? From your⦠limited selection, of course." There was a definite playful glint in her eye now, the earlier skepticism replaced by a lighter, almost teasing tone.
"Ehh⦠a Rattata⦠and a Poliwag," I muttered, the confession feeling somewhatâ¦deflating.
A beat of perfect, professionally maintained silence stretched between us. On the screen, Nurse Joy's smile remained impeccably fixed, but her eyes⦠her eyes narrowed just a fraction, a flicker of something unreadable â amusement? disbelief? â dancing within their bright, cerulean depths.
"â¦"
"â¦"
"â¦"
"â¦"
The silence stretched, punctuated only by the faint hum of the video phone connection. Finally, Nurse Joy's perfectly composed smile widened just a fraction, the playful glint in her eyes intensifying.
"Professor Oak," she said, her voice now laced with undisguised amusement, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. "That's⦠quite alright, Professor. Perfectly understandable⦠given the⦠circumstances. Tell you what, Professor," she continued, her tone shifting to decisive efficiency, "Since sponsorship is now⦠approved in principle, shall we say⦠I think we can manage to⦠'supplement' your starter selection. Consider it⦠a gesture of⦠goodwill from the Viridian City Pokémon Center. A fresh Regular Set starter for Mr. Trent. On the house."
"But⦠Ms. Joy, that's⦠truly not necessary," I began, genuinely surprised and slightly⦠guilty.
"No 'buts', Professor." Nurse Joy's tone brooked no argument, the professional efficiency returning full force. "Think of it as⦠streamlining efficiency. Minimizing logistical complexities, Professor, if you will." Her smile widened further, now undeniably playful. "Was there anything else, Professor Oak?"
"No, Ms. Joy. That is⦠truly all. And⦠thank you. Again. For everything."
"Then, good day to you, Professor Oak. And⦠best of luck with those 'logistical complexities' in Pallet Town." She winked â a perfectly professional, Nurse Joy wink, of course â and with a final bright smile, terminated the call.
Click. The screen went dark, leaving me staring at my own slightly sheepish reflection.
Ha~ah⦠I released a long, slow breath. Sigh. She is headstrong. And⦠sharp as a tack. No fooling Nurse Joy.
Hmm⦠Alex. That boy⦠he is fortunate. More fortunate than he, or even Nurse Joy, probably realizes.
A new Regular Starter, on top of that Pidgey... He is starting his journey far better equipped than most. And yet, I can't shake this feeling of unease. My gut still churns. Something⦠felt off.
I began to pace the floor of the living room, the polished wood cool beneath my worn loafers. My mind, a place usually ordered by scientific method and logical deduction, felt like a whirlwind of disparate, unsettling data points. I tried to lay them out, to force a pattern where perhaps none existed.
First, Red's disappearance. Five years of silence after that final, garbled transmission during the joint mission with the league in Johto. A message filled with static and panic, mentioning "unstable dimensional energy" and a "failed containment." At the time, I'd dismissed it as the ramblings of a young man under extreme duress, lost on a hostile mountain. But the message had also contained coordinatesâcoordinates leading nowhere, deep within the rock of Mt. Silver.
Second, the Great Migration. An unnatural influx of Pokémon to Kanto ten years ago. We explained it away with theories of ecological shifts and magnetic field fluctuations, but we never found a definitive cause. It was an anomaly we simply learned to live with.
Third, the recent events. The "lightning strikesâ thatâs been reported near Viridian Forest and the outskirts of Pallet Town. And the signal interference occurring in these past few days leading to static.
These weren't isolated incidents; they were escalating. A pattern was emerging, a low hum of wrongness beneath the surface of the world.
And now, Alex. An completely unknown, amnesiac boy who appears out of thin air on the very day Ash Ketchum, Red's son, begins his journey. A boy with a strange, almost expansive knowledge of Pokémon, despite having no memory of himself. On further inquiry into the official records, no mention of this âAlexâ was discovered. Although he seems harmless, I should look into who this kid is and keep him under close observation.
This boy, Alex. He feels like a catalyst for something my gut says in world breaking. Maybe he could be even related to âthatâ?
The thought sent a jolt of alarm through me. I stopped pacing, my hand resting on a bookshelf laden with ancient history texts. Project Eclipse. A project filled with unfathomable secrets that I still haven't unraveled myself. The secret mission that Red went on, five years ago, was also to shed some light on some of its mysteries. But then he went missing, leaving that final message.
I looked at my own trembling hands. I had kept Red's secrets. For Delia's sake, for Ash's. I told the world he was a recluse, a champion seeking solitude. But only I knew the truth.
And now, this boy Alex, his gaze had been drawn to those notes on my whiteboard like a moth to a flame. He saw the name. He saw the location. Did he recognise something? Or was he just interested on the random scribblings on the whiteboard?
Probably just paranoia, Samuel. Old man's fears getting the better of him. Probably.
But the feeling persisted. A prickling at the edge of my awareness, like static before a storm.
Driven by this sudden, restless certainty, I abandoned the living room and retreated to my cluttered research sanctuary. The familiar scent of aging paper and dried herbs, usually a comfort, now seemed tinged with a faint metallic edge of apprehension. Dusty journals and faded expedition photographs seemed to watch me from the overflowing shelves, their silence accusatory. My gaze fell upon the cabinet where I kept my most valuable, most secret piece of equipment. The prototype PokéDex. Its advanced sensors could record a Pokémon's dataâtype, abilities, even potential movesâwithout needing to capture it. More importantly, its long-range scanners could detect the very dimensional energy signatures Red had warned me about. It was cutting-edge, irreplaceable, and the key to understanding if my fears were justified.
A cold premonition, solid and heavy, settled deep in my stomach. My hand trembled as I reached for the cabinet door, the latch clicking open with a sound far too loud in the sudden, suffocating silence of the room.
Empty.
Just⦠empty space. Where the PokéDex should have been, nestled securely amongst its charging cables and calibration tools, there was only⦠emptiness. A gaping void in the carefully organized chaos of my research.
A slow chill, far colder than any Pallet Town winter, began to crawl up my spine, freezing the breath in my lungs. My paranoia wasn't paranoia at all. It was a fact.
Someone⦠someone had been in my lab. Breached security I thought impenetrable. But⦠who? And⦠why?
âDAISY!!â, I called out.
âYes, grandfather!?â, a young lady, my grand-daughter, clad in a white research coat rushed into the room that I was in.
âCall Officer Jenny immediately!! There's been a robbery!â
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â Research Room, Prof. Oak's Lab
â [A few minutes before Ash's farewell]
The air hung thick with the scent of old paper and a faint, underlying chemical tang â the familiar aroma of Professor Oak's research room. Moonlight, filtering through the high, arched windows, cast long, distorted shadows across the cluttered space, painting the overflowing bookshelves and precariously stacked journals in shades of silver and deep indigo. Dust motes, disturbed by their swift, silent movements, swirled like miniature galaxies in the faint light beams. Every surface seemed covered â a chaotic tapestry of scientific instruments, half-disassembled machines humming with residual energy, and scribbled notes barely contained by overflowing folders. The thief moved with a practiced grace, their footsteps muffled by the thick, worn rug that covered most of the floor. Their eyes, sharp and focused, scanned the room, taking in the details with a practiced efficiency, pausing on the cabinet with an electronic device.
"Jiggly, we got the PokéDex. Mission Accomplished." The voice, though lightly accented, was sharp, efficient, betraying a focused intensity that belied its youthful cadence. "Let's move. We need to locate Silver. Before he catches up." A flicker of something unreadable â urgency? Fear? â tightened the voice for a fleeting instant, then smoothed back into its practiced, almost unnervingly calm tone.
A soft, almost musical chirp responded from the shadows of the cluttered lab. "Jiggly Jig."
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Chapter End