A New Journey in Pokemon

[Common]

The world of Pokémon is much darker than everyone thinks. One only needs to read the Pokédex to realize that.

In a world recovering from a massive war between three teams Mystic, Valor, and Instinct. Locked in a stalemate for decades with no real winners. With entire populations both human and Pokemon devastated, the Pokémon league manage to take control and bring order to a world ravaged in chaos.

This is the world in which you were born.

Now tell me, are you a Boy or a Girl?


"Boy… is this really what we are starting this isekai story off with?" A soul asks

"I'm sorry the last time someone got sent to Pokémon, they basically managed to bring the Pokémon world equivalent of 2 supercomputers with them. A ton of elite and champion teams, which allowed them to make a mockery of the spirit of the challenge." The rather annoyed likely goddess responded back.

"How did that happen?" The soul asks

"They asked to bring all their progress from the video games and their entire bedroom which had the craziest of things from custom electronics, modern survival gear(including guns), and even a damn suit of armor. They had the league hacked in minutes and controlled information across the world in about a week."

"So, what do I get?" The soul asks

"Not that much."

"Can I ask for access to just 1 game and its systems and nothing else?" The soul asks

"Fine but no bag items outside of healing. Everything else goes bye bye. No 99 mega stones type bullshit."

"Sure, I don't plan on using the Pokémon too much either, the fun part would be getting new ones. And learning with them." The soul answers

"And you already have a broken choice… fine fine. Just go,"
======
There was a young boy playing with an Eevee outside of a fairly large house.

The grass was cool beneath his fingers.

He giggled as the Eevee darted away, tail flicking like a banner as it circled back, brown fur catching the afternoon light. The yard wasn't large—just a patch of green behind the house—but to a five-year-old, it might as well have been a battlefield, a forest, a kingdom.

"Hey—no fair!" the boy laughed, scrambling to his feet as Eevee pounced playfully at his shoelaces.

Eevee yipped, ears perked, eyes bright with mischief.

They tumbled together, child and Pokémon rolling through the grass. Warm sunlight. The smell of dirt. The distant hum of the town beyond the fence. It was peaceful in the way only children ever noticed.

Then the world lurched.

The boy froze mid-laugh.

Something twisted behind his eyes—sharp, sudden, and wrong. The sky blurred, colors smearing together like wet paint. His hands went numb.

"E–Eevee…?" he tried to say.

Pain crashed through his skull, and he collapsed, everything hurting too much to move.

"Eve?" Eevee asked softly.

The Pokémon nudged his cheek. No response.

Panic flickered across Eevee's face.

"Eevee!" it cried.

The boy watched, helpless, as Eevee turned and bolted away, paws tearing through the grass. Its voice carried back to him in broken, desperate calls as it ran—each one fainter than the last.

"Eevee! Ee—vee!"

One blink, and his vision cleared just enough to see Eevee's small form racing away.

A second blink, and a large house emerged in the distance, standing in the direction Eevee was running—tall, old, and unmistakable even through the blur.

A third blink, followed by a sharp, pained breath—

And the world went dark.

 

[Common]

The first thing he noticed was the sound.

A steady, mechanical beep—slow. Measured.

His eyes were too heavy to open, and even the faintest hint of light leaking through his eyelids made the headache spike violently.

Must've been a hell of a night drinking…

The thought surfaced automatically, familiar and wrong all at once.

He tried to move his hands.

The sensation was… off.

They moved too smoothly. Too easily. The dull, ever-present ache of carpal tunnel—the one that should have been there after years of precise, repetitive work—was gone. His fingers responded with a fluidity he hadn't felt since before his job, before the strain, before—

"…Nurse! Maverick's hand moved! He's waking up!"

A woman's voice cut through the haze, sharp with surprise.

The name hit harder than the headache.

Maverick?

That wasn't right.

His name was Ethan.

Confusion churned as fragments tried to line up—memories that didn't quite fit, sensations that belonged to a body that felt both familiar and wrong. The beeping grew louder, closer, as if the room itself was leaning in.

He tried to speak.

Only a pained groan escaped his throat.

The door slid open, soft mechanisms hissing as a nurse hurried inside, her expression shifting the moment she heard the sound.

"There we go," she said gently, moving to his side. "Easy now. You've been out for a while."

Her hand was warm as it steadied his arm, grounding in a way that made the unreality worse.

"Maverick," she continued, checking the monitor, "do you know where you are?"

"No? What happened?" Ethan asked

"Eevee came to the door in a panic because you collapsed in the yard."

"I did?" Ethan asks knowing that was likely when he got his memories back… Did he get his wish? He should've come with a phone if he did.

"Yes you did, according to the doctors here you seemed to have awoken some psychic potential."

Psychic.

That… explained the headache. And a few other things he didn't want to think about yet.

"Where's Dad?" Ethan asked instead, choosing to trust his instincts as he sorted through the overlapping memories—his own, and Maverick's.

She smiled sadly.

"Come on, Mav. Your father wishes he could be here with you, but he's busy at work at the research institute."

Something twisted in Ethan's chest.

"…My Eevee?" he asked quickly.

Her expression softened.

"He took Eevee with him," she said. "Your father thinks it's on the verge of evolving. Since it doesn't seem to involve a stone, the institute wants to document it—capture a potential moment in history."

That was enough.

Ethan pushed himself upright despite the protest from his skull, eyes burning with urgency.

"Mom," he said firmly, surprising even himself with the steadiness in his voice, "if my Eevee is going to evolve, then we need to be there."

Now.

She hesitated. Then sighed.

"…You're just like him."

=====

"Researcher Roberts," a man in a pristine business suit said coolly, hands clasped behind his back, "excellent work bringing in the Eevee for the trials."

The Pokémon sat on a reinforced table, ears flattened, eyes darting around the sterile laboratory. Energy readings flickered wildly on the monitors surrounding it.

"It has more than enough energy," the man continued. "If our projections are correct, we may be on the verge of discovering a new, powerful evolution."

Roberts adjusted his lab coat, glancing briefly at the Eevee.

"It's my son's Pokémon," he said. "As long as we return it before he wakes from his coma, you can run whatever tests you like."

The man smiled thinly.

"If this method of evolution works," Roberts continued, voice low with ambition, "and it's as powerful as we expect… we'll be unstoppable."

He straightened.

"Hail Team Galactic."

"Hail Team Galactic," the businessman replied without hesitation.

=====

The testing began.

An Everstone was placed before the Eevee.

Then an Eviolite.

Then—one by one—all three elemental evolution stones.

The Pokémon trembled as energy surged and twisted within it, instincts screaming as something inside of its being cried out in worry. Elemental power escaped unchecked suddenly as eevee cried out in pain.

Then monitors screamed.

Energy readings spiked past red, numbers blurring as alarms began to wail. The lights flickered once—twice—then steadied, bathing the lab in harsh white.

"Pull the stones back!" someone shouted.

Too late.

Eevee cried out—not in fear, but in pain—as the conflicting energies collided inside its small body. Evolutionary signals overlapped and folded in on themselves, stone-based pathways tearing against something older, deeper. The Everstone shattered first, cracking down the center before exploding into dust.

The Eviolite followed.

A shockwave rippled outward.

The lights died.

For half a second, the world went silent.

Then the generators failed.

Darkness swallowed the research wing as emergency systems struggled—and failed—to come online. Containment fields fizzled out with a sound like tearing paper.

Deep underground, something noticed.

A massive silhouette stirred behind reinforced glass, three heads lifting in unison as crimson eyes snapped open.

Hydreigon.

The blackout reached its cell a heartbeat later.

Magnetic locks disengaged.

The glass cracked.

One claw punched through the enclosure—then another—then the third head unleashed a roar that shook the facility to its foundations.

Steel screamed as Hydreigon tore free.

It burst into the corridor like a living catastrophe, shadowy wings unfurling as it incinerated fleeing researchers in a storm of dark pulses and draconic fury. Walls collapsed. Fire suppression systems detonated uselessly against the sheer force of it.

Above the chaos, emergency sirens finally howled across the institute.

"Containment breach!"
"Dragon—no, it's an enraged Dragon-type!"
"Evacuate! Evacuate now!"

Hydreigon tore through the upper levels and burst into the open air, its roar echoing across the city as panic spread like wildfire below.

And in the ruined lab—

Where Eevee had been—

Something else stood.

First, Vaporeon.

Then Jolteon.

Then Flareon.

The transformations came in rapid succession, bodies flickering and reforming as incompatible evolutionary paths forced themselves into existence. Two more shifts followed—Espeon, then Umbreon—before the energy collapsed inward.

With a final, exhausted cry, the Pokémon reverted.

Eevee fell to the floor, trembling, its body scorched and unsteady—but alive.

===

An explosion rocked Veilstone City.

Not a sharp crack, but a deep, concussive thud that rolled through the streets and rattled windows in their frames. The ground jumped beneath hooves and feet alike, and for a heartbeat the entire city seemed to freeze—people looking up, breath caught, instincts screaming that something had gone terribly wrong.

Then came the silence.

Smoke curled upward from the industrial district, dark and uncertain against the sky. No alarms yet. No shouting. Just the low groan of settling steel and the distant crackle of small fires struggling to find fuel.

One second passed.

Then another.

And Veilstone's emergency systems came alive.

Sirens howled across the city, layered and unmistakable—deep, pulsing tones reserved for one thing only.

WILD POKÉMON ATTACK.

Red warning lights flared atop buildings as automated broadcasts cut into every public channel.

"Attention all citizens. This is not a drill."
"A rampaging wild Pokémon is loose in Veilstone City."
"Evacuate immediately. Seek reinforced shelter. Do not engage."

The sirens shifted pitch.

A sharper tone cut through the din, followed by a new broadcast—clear, authoritative, and impossible to ignore.

"Attention all registered Pokémon Trainers."

Civilians scattered for cover as Trainers called out their Pokémon, Poké Balls flashing open amid the chaos.

"Trainers possessing three or more Gym Badges are hereby authorized and requested to assist in containment efforts."

The voice paused, just long enough for the weight of the words to settle.

"Locate the nearest Pokémon Ranger immediately. Follow all Ranger directives. This is a coordinated response."

 

[Common]

Ethan flinched as the explosion echoed through the hospital.

The windows rattled violently, monitors beeping in sudden agitation as the sound rolled in from the direction of the Galactic Power Plant and Research Center.

He sucked in a sharp breath.

"Mom," Ethan asked, hope painfully clear in his voice, "was Dad running late for work today, by chance?"

She didn't answer.

She stood frozen beside the window, hands clenched white against the sill, staring out at the rising smoke twisting into the sky.

"…Mom?"

Her shoulders trembled.

Slowly, she turned to look at him—eyes wide, unfocused, reflecting the red warning lights washing over the city.

"I—" Her voice caught. "I don't know."

But the way she said it told him everything.
===
Ethan was half-asleep on the couch when the doorbell rang.

Not the polite chime it usually made—but the heavy, insistent press of someone who wouldn't leave without being answered.

His head throbbed as he stirred, bandages pulling uncomfortably at his temple. He could hear his mother moving before he saw her—slow footsteps, unsteady, like she already knew.

The door opened.

Two Pokémon Rangers stood on the porch.

Their uniforms were scuffed. One had a sling around his arm. The other's jacket was torn and darkened with dried blood—not human, but enough to say the day had gone very wrong.

"Mrs. Roberts?" one of them asked quietly.

She nodded once, gripping the doorframe.

"We're sorry to come so late," the Ranger continued. His voice was steady, practiced—but not cold. "There was an incident at the Galactic Power Plant and Research Center earlier today."

Ethan sat up. Of course, he thought dully. Of course I'd start my new life with a tragic backstory.

He didn't stay to hear the rest.

When the words finally came—soft, careful, devastating—he was already moving, feet carrying him down the hall on instinct alone. The door to his room creaked softly as he pushed it open and slipped inside.

Eevee was curled up in the center of his bed.

Its fur was matted and singed in places, breathing shallow but steady. One ear twitched the moment Ethan stepped closer, tired eyes opening just enough to recognize him.

"…Eevee," he whispered.

The Pokémon let out a weak, familiar sound and pressed its head into the blanket, closer to where Ethan had slept for years.

He sat on the edge of the bed and rested a hand against Eevee's side, feeling the warmth there—real, solid, alive.

Outside the room, his mother's voice finally broke.

Inside, Ethan stayed very still, fingers buried in Eevee's fur. He curled around the Pokémon, letting the warmth anchor him as memories clawed their way back. Tears slid down his cheeks, silent but relentless, as he tried to dissociate from the weight of the loss—the death of a father he barely had a chance to know in this new life.

===

The funeral was held on the outskirts of Veilstone City, just beyond the meteorite garden.

The company was footing the bill, though that did little to ease the weight on his mother. She had broken down the night before, tears soaking the sheets as she whispered about the life insurance—not nearly enough to keep them in the city. They would have to move. Leaving his father behind, in the city he had loved, had broken her in a way Ethan had never seen before.

Ethan sat near the front, trying to make himself small. Around him, there were many other children—sons and daughters of his father's coworkers. The funeral was far larger than anything he had imagined, a grim testament to the mass casualties at the Galactic Power and Research Center.

Even the CEO of the company had come out of seclusion to pay respects to his deceased employees, a rare public appearance that only made the event feel more official, more permanent.

Cyrus stepped up to the podium, crisp suit impeccable, a prepared speech in hand. The murmurs of the crowd fell into uneasy silence as his voice cut clearly through the air.

Ethan's stomach turned.

"We gather here today as a result of a tragedy," Cyrus began, his voice smooth, deliberate, carrying across the gathered mourners. "A tragedy that has claimed the lives of dedicated employees—men and women who devoted their time, their talent, and their very lives to the advancement of our society. They were taken from us as we strove for a perfect world."

And then it clicked.

His father.

All the fragmented memories, all the odd suspicions from that day at the research center, suddenly aligned. His father had been a member of Team Galactic. He had knowingly worked for this man—the same man now standing at the podium, speaking fondly of the lives that had been lost, twisting tragedy into a showcase for his own vision.

Ethan's hands clenched in his lap.
====

After the ceremony, the crowd began to disperse, leaving the family in the quiet reception in the meteorite garden.

A figure approached—tall, composed, and impossibly stern, moving with the ease of someone accustomed to command. Carolina Shirona. Ethan's great-grandmother.

Her eyes, sharp and assessing, scanned him from head to toe before settling on his face. "Maverick, hello. I am your great-grandmother."

Ethan hesitated for a fraction of a second, then forced a small, wry smile. "I think I want to go by Ethan now," he said carefully. "Maverick is a bit of a mouthful."

Carolina's gaze flicked to him, measuring, almost appraising. There was no judgment, only a faint acknowledgment.

"Very well, Ethan… your mom and I talked and you are coming to stay with me for a bit while she takes care of affairs here.

"So, that means that we are going home to pack up and get Eevee, right?" Ethan asks

Carolina's lips pressed into a thin line, her expression unreadable for a moment. "Yes. Eevee will come with us. But understand this—our time at your home will be brief. There are matters to attend to, and I do not tolerate delays or distractions."

Ethan nodded slowly.
====

They returned to the house in near silence.

Veilstone felt different now—quieter, tense in a way that hadn't been there before. Ranger patrols flew overhead on their Pokémon, silhouettes cutting across the sky in steady patterns. League banners had replaced the emergency warnings, draped across buildings and streets as if order alone could erase what had happened.

Inside, the house felt hollow.

Ethan moved on autopilot, packing only what Carolina allowed: a single suitcase, a backpack, and Eevee. Nothing else.

The other stuff would come when mom organized the movers.