Austin, a die-hard Pokémon fan, is disenchanted with the series' direction post-Sinnoh. After a typical late-night binge-watch, he drifts off to sleep, only to wake up in an unimaginable reality: he is Ash Ketchum, and today is the morning his legen...
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Austin sprinted with all his might, his arms flailing as he tried to outpace the relentless flock of Spearow.
Regret! Major regret! he chanted internally, his thoughts racing as fast as his legs.
A sharp pain exploded at the back of his head as a Spearow collided with him. The hit sent a shock of adrenaline surging through him, pushing him to run even faster. "Pikachu, get in your Pokéball," he panted, his voice strained with urgency.
"Pi?!" Pikachu looked up at him, confusion and defiance in its expression as it ran alongside him.
"Listen to me, I'm not going to let you get hurt," Austin pleaded, adjusting his backpack to shield his head from further attacks. As he did, a troubling thought crossed his mind.
Could it be that this flock was lying in wait to ambush me? Did catching that lone Spearow just trigger them? Or was Ash being chased by the flock something that would happen regardless of my actions?
Pikachu suddenly vanished from his peripheral vision.
"Chu?!" he heard Pikachu's defiant cry as it stopped to confront the flock head-on.
"No, Pikachu!" Austin yelled. In a swift motion, he pulled out the electric type's Pokéball and pointed it at Pikachu, returning him before any harm could come to the little Pokémon. As Pikachu disappeared into the ball, several of the initial Spearow dropped to the ground, stunned, but more were quickly approaching.
This brief pause allowed Austin a moment to catch his breath and think.
Misty should be nearby. I need to find her and get her help, he thought desperately, his grip tightening on the shaking Pokéball.
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Misty Waterflower did not consider herself a patient girl.
In fact, she was quite the opposite—a firecracker, which was a bit funny considering her dream of becoming a water-type Pokémon specialist.
Water should be cool and flowing, but Misty? She often felt more like the stormy sea than a gentle stream.
As she pedaled her bike through the grasslands, the sun warmed her face while a cool breeze teased her hair. Darting Pidgeys and unseen critters rustling in the tall grass caught her eye.
Pulling up beside a large river, Misty checked her Pokétch, a gadget with a dot-matrix screen that was all the rage among trainers.
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