It wasn't intentional—his body simply refused to wake at the usual early hour, exhausted from the previous day's stress and exertion. When he finally opened his eyes, sunlight was streaming through the window at an angle that suggested mid-morning, and both of his Pokémon were watching him with varying degrees of impatience.
"Sprig." Sprigatito was sitting at the foot of the bed, her tail flicking. About time.
Hungry, Ralts sent through their bond. Very hungry.
"Alright, alright. I'm up." Jason stretched, feeling the pleasant ache of muscles that had been tensed for hours during the gym battle. "Breakfast first. Then we celebrate."
Celebrate? Ralts's confusion was evident.
"We won our first badge yesterday. That deserves something special."
"Sprigatito!" Enthusiastic agreement.
The Pokémon Center cafeteria was busy with the late-morning crowd, but Jason found a table near the window with a view of the street outside. He got himself a larger breakfast than usual—eggs, toast, bacon, fruit, and a pastry that looked too good to pass up—and made sure both Pokémon had generous portions of their preferred foods.
"Today's a rest day," he announced between bites. "No serious training. Just exploring, relaxing, enjoying the city."
Sprigatito made a sound that might have been disappointment—she liked training—but settled into eating without complaint. Ralts simply radiated contentment, happy to be fed and safe and included.
Jason pulled out the Stone Badge from his pocket and set it on the table, studying it in the morning light. The octagonal shape caught the sun, gleaming silver and gray. Such a small thing to represent such a significant moment.
First badge. Proof that I can actually do this.
He'd worried, in those first days after waking up in the forest, that he was fooling himself. That playing Pokémon games didn't translate to actually being a trainer. That his knowledge was superficial, useless in the face of real challenges.
But he'd won. Not easily—Ralts had gone down, Sprigatito had been paralyzed and nearly beaten—but he'd won. His strategy had worked. His Pokémon had trusted him.
Maybe I can do this after all.
"Mind if I sit?"
Jason looked up to find a familiar face—Takeshi, the boy from the practice battle, standing uncertainly with a tray in his hands. His Geodude floated beside him, looking healthier than it had after Roxanne's defeat.
"Go ahead." Jason gestured to the empty seat across from him. "How are you holding up?"
Takeshi slumped into the chair, his expression a mix of disappointment and determination. "I lost. You probably saw."
"I did. But Roxanne said you had potential. That your defensive strategy was sound."
"She said I telegraph my attacks." Takeshi poked at his food. "I didn't even know I was doing it."
"Now you do. That's how you improve—by learning what you're doing wrong."
Takeshi considered this, then nodded slowly. "I guess. It just... it sucks to lose. Especially my first gym battle."
"My Ralts got knocked out yesterday," Jason said. "First Pokémon I sent out. Roxanne's Geodude took her down with Magnitude."
"But you still won."
"Because I had a backup plan. And because Sprig refused to give up." Jason glanced at Sprigatito, who was pretending not to listen while clearly listening. "Losing one battle doesn't mean losing the war."
Takeshi was quiet for a moment, then looked up with something like hope in his eyes. "You think I can beat her? If I come back?"
"I think you've got a Geodude who fought hard for you, and a trainer who cares enough to be upset about losing. That's a good foundation." Jason smiled. "Work on what she told you. Practice your poker face. Maybe catch another Pokémon for backup. Then try again."
"Yeah." Takeshi straightened in his seat, some of his earlier dejection fading. "Yeah, okay. I'll do that." He looked at Jason with renewed curiosity. "Where are you headed next?"
"Dewford Town. Brawly's gym—Fighting-types."
"That's on an island, right? You have to take a ferry."
"From what I've read, yeah. Mr. Briney runs a boat service for trainers."
"Cool." Takeshi glanced at his Geodude. "Maybe I'll see you at the Conference someday. If I ever make it that far."
"You will. Just keep working at it."
They finished breakfast together, talking about training strategies and favorite Pokémon and the challenges ahead. By the time Takeshi left—headed to the Trainer School for more practice—Jason found himself genuinely hoping the kid would succeed.
This is what the trainer community is supposed to be like, he realized. People helping each other, sharing knowledge, building each other up.
It was a good feeling.
With breakfast done and the morning stretching ahead, Jason decided to explore the parts of Rustboro he hadn't seen yet.
The city was different in daylight, with more time to appreciate it. He wandered through the commercial district, window-shopping at stores he couldn't afford, watching the flow of people and Pokémon going about their daily lives.
A Machamp helped a crew unload delivery trucks, its four arms making quick work of heavy crates. A Growlithe walked beside a police officer, both of them alert and watchful. A street performer's Kecleon changed colors in mesmerizing patterns while its trainer played music, drawing a crowd of appreciative onlookers.
Pokémon aren't just partners for battle, Jason thought. They're integrated into everything. Work, security, entertainment, daily life.
He passed by the Devon Corporation headquarters—that massive complex of buildings he'd noticed on arrival—and paused to study it more closely. The architecture was impressive, all glass and steel and clean lines. Security was visible but not oppressive; Pokémon and humans in Devon uniforms moved in and out through multiple entrances.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
A sign near the main entrance listed some of their products and services:
Devon Corporation Innovation for Trainers and Pokémon
- Pokéball Development & Manufacturing
- Technical Machine Research
- Communication Technology (PokéNav, Pokégear accessories)
- Fossil Restoration Services
- Energy Research Division
Fossil restoration, Jason noted. That's how you get Pokémon like Aerodactyl and Armaldo. I wonder if they'd restore a fossil for a random trainer, or if it's just for researchers.
Something to look into later, maybe. For now, he filed the information away and continued his exploration.
The Devon Corporation retail store was worth a visit, even if he wasn't planning to buy much.
The showroom was impressive—gleaming displays showcasing their latest products, interactive stations where trainers could test equipment, and staff members ready to answer questions. Jason browsed through the TM section, noting prices and effects.
TM39 - Rock Tomb: 3,000 PD TM41 - Torment: 2,500 PD TM45 - Attract: 2,000 PD TM48 - Skill Swap: 4,500 PD
Expensive, but potentially worth it for the right situation.
He didn't have the funds for TMs right now—his badge victory had come with a 1,500 PD prize, but he needed that for travel supplies. Maybe after a few more gym victories, when the prizes got larger.
What caught his attention was the specialty Pokéball display.
Great Ball: 600 PD — Higher catch rate than standard. Ultra Ball: 1,200 PD — Significantly higher catch rate. Net Ball: 1,000 PD — Bonus against Water and Bug types. Nest Ball: 1,000 PD — Bonus against weaker Pokémon. Repeat Ball: 1,000 PD — Bonus against previously caught species. Timer Ball: 1,000 PD — Better the longer the battle lasts. Luxury Ball: 1,500 PD — Caught Pokémon become friendlier faster (may differ according to pokemon personalities). Premier Ball: 200 PD — Standard rate, elegant design
Jason paused at the Luxury Ball display, turning the elegant sphere over in his hands. The design was beautiful—dark with gold accents, clearly meant to convey quality and care.
Someday, he thought, I want all my Pokémon to choose their own balls. Something that fits them, that feels right.
It was a silly thought, maybe. Pokéballs were tools, functionally identical regardless of appearance. But they were also symbols—of the bond between trainer and Pokémon, of the care a trainer put into their team. Letting a Pokémon choose their own ball felt like... respect. Recognition that they were individuals with preferences, not just creatures to be caught and stored.
Sprig's in a Premier Ball. That suits her—elegant, distinctive. But Ralts is in a standard ball. When I can afford it, when she's ready, I want to give her something that feels more like her.
He bought one Luxury Ball, along with a Great Ball and some regular poke balls. An investment in the future.
The purchase left him with less spending money than he'd like, but it felt like a worthwhile investment.
"Good choices," the clerk said as she rang him up—a young woman with a Devon name badge reading Yuki. "Great Balls are essential for serious catching, and Luxury Balls are underrated. Some Pokémon really respond to that extra comfort."
"Any tips for the route between here and Dewford?"
"Route 116 has Nincada, Whismur, and Abra if you're lucky. The tunnel can be tricky—low light, some wild Pokémon that don't like being disturbed. Bring extra Potions." She handed over his purchases. "And watch out for Rusturf Tunnel. There's been some... activity there lately."
"Activity?"
Yuki hesitated, then lowered her voice. "Team Aqua. They've been spotted in the area. Nothing confirmed, but trainers have reported seeing people in weird uniforms near the tunnel entrance."
Team Aqua. Already.
"Thanks for the warning."
"Stay safe out there."
Jason found a quiet spot in one of Rustboro's parks to process what he'd learned.
Team Aqua was active. Not just in the abstract—not just as something that would eventually become a problem—but now, near the route he'd be traveling tomorrow. The timeline was moving, events unfolding whether he was ready for them or not.
What do I do about this?
He could report it to someone. The police, maybe, or the Pokémon League. But report what? Rumors from a store clerk? He had no evidence, no specifics, just secondhand information about "people in weird uniforms."
Or I could just... be careful. Keep my eyes open. See what I see.
The idea of getting involved with Team Aqua made his stomach clench. These weren't random wild Pokémon or gym challenges. These were criminals—eco-terrorists with plans to reshape the world. In the games, they'd awakened an ancient legendary Pokémon and nearly caused a global catastrophe.
And in this world, that's not a cutscene. That's real.
He looked at Sprigatito, dozing in a patch of sunlight, and at Ralts, who was watching a group of Pidgey with curious fascination. His team. His responsibility.
I'm not ready to fight criminal organizations. I have two Pokémon and one badge. I'd get crushed.
But he also couldn't just ignore it. If he saw something, he'd have to do something—or at least tell someone who could.
One step at a time. Get through Route 116. Get to Dewford. Get stronger. Deal with bigger problems when you're ready for them.
It wasn't a satisfying answer. But it was the only one he had.
The afternoon was for training—light training, nothing too intense, but enough to keep sharp.
Jason found an empty practice field at the Trainer School (open to registered trainers during off-hours) and worked with both Pokémon on fundamentals. Accuracy drills for Sprigatito. Confidence exercises for Ralts. The kind of steady, repetitive work that built foundations.
"Leafage—tight cluster, center of the target."
Sprigatito fired. The leaves struck within a handspan of each other, not perfect but improving.
"Good. Again."
They drilled for an hour, then switched to movement exercises. Jason had been thinking about Sprigatito's speed—she was naturally quick, but she wasn't using that speed strategically. Against Nosepass, she'd been caught by Rock Tomb because she was standing still when she attacked.
"Move and attack," he told her. "Don't stop moving. Fire Leafage while you're running."
This was harder. Much harder. Running and attacking simultaneously required coordination that she hadn't developed yet. Her first attempts were clumsy—leaves flying wide, her own movement disrupted by the effort of generating the attack.
But by the end of the session, she was starting to get it. Not smoothly, not reliably, but the foundation was there.
This is how she'll learn Quick Attack, Jason realized. By getting comfortable moving fast while doing other things. The move will come naturally once her body is ready for it.
Ralts's training was different—less physical, more mental. Jason had her practice extending her senses, reaching out to feel the emotions of Pokémon and people in the area. It was exhausting for her, but it was also building her psychic abilities in ways that would pay off later.
"What do you feel?" he asked, sitting beside her on the field.
People... trainers... some excited, some frustrated, some tired. She concentrated harder. A Pokémon nearby is hungry. Another one is happy—its trainer just praised it.
"Good. Can you feel anything else? Anything unusual?"
A long pause. There's... something far away. Dark. Angry. She shuddered. I don't like it.
Jason's blood ran cold. Team Aqua?
"Don't push it. Pull back. Focus on what's close and safe."
She withdrew her senses with visible relief. What was that?
"I don't know. But I'll keep you safe from it." He hoped that was a promise he could keep.
Evening found Jason back at the Pokémon Center, preparing for tomorrow's departure.
He'd resupplied—Potions, Pokéballs, food for himself and his Pokémon. He'd mapped out the route to Dewford: Route 116 to Rusturf Tunnel, then backtrack to Route 104's northern coast and find Mr. Briney's cottage. The old sailor was known for ferrying trainers to Dewford Island, and by all accounts, he was reliable if somewhat eccentric.
Hana had confirmed she'd be traveling with him as far as the tunnel. Her Ranger training region technically ended at Rustboro, but she had flexibility to extend her range for specific purposes.
"I want to see what's happening at Rusturf Tunnel," she'd said. "The reports about unusual activity concern me."
She doesn't know it's Team Aqua. Or maybe she suspects but doesn't want to say.
Either way, having her along was reassuring. Hana was competent, experienced, and unlikely to panic if things went wrong.
Jason sat on his bed, Stone Badge in hand, and let himself feel proud for a moment. He'd come so far in such a short time. Two weeks ago, he'd woken up in a forest with no idea where he was or how he'd gotten there. Now he had two Pokémon, a badge, friends, and a plan.
Not bad for a guy from another dimension.
He pulled out his phone—71% battery, he'd charged it last night but needed to be more careful about usage—and scrolled through his music. Something to match his mood. Something celebratory but not overwhelming.
He selected Fall Out Boy's "Centuries."
Some legends are told, some turn to dust or to gold...
The music filled his ears, and Jason let himself smile. He'd done something worth remembering today. Worth celebrating.
Tomorrow, new challenges. Tonight, just this.
Sprigatito hopped onto the bed and curled against his leg. Ralts climbed up to nestle against his other side. His team, his partners, his friends.
The song played on, and Jason watched the lights of Rustboro City twinkle through his window, and for the first time in a while, the future felt bright.