The outskirts of Pallet Town were a theater of the absurd. Gary Oak was already leaning against the hood of his red convertible, his chin tilted at an angle that suggested he was posing for a statue. His cheerleaders were in mid-chant, pom-poms blurring in the morning sun.
"I'll be in Viridian sipping a soda before you even clear the first patch of grass, Ashy-boy," Gary drawled, his eyes hidden behind a pair of designer sunglasses.
Ash, now mercifully out of his pajamas and rocking his iconic vest and hat, adjusted his backpack. "No way, Gary! Pikachu and I are going to catch every Pokémon between here and the League! Right, buddy?"
He turned to his partner with a grin. Pikachu didn't even look up from his paws; he simply turned his head away with a distinct "Hmph," crossing his tiny yellow arms.
Gary barked out a laugh. "Yeah, looks like a real bond you've got there. Good luck with the 'Master' thing. You're going to need—"
*WHOOSH.*
A blur of denim and black flashed between them. I was crouched low on my board, my weight shifted forward as I carved a path right through the middle of their argument. Torchic was perched on my left shoulder, leaning into the wind like a professional racer, while Eevee was tucked into the crook of my neck, her ears flapping wildly.
"See ya later, losers!" I yelled over my shoulder. I didn't slow down, but I did take a hand off the board just long enough to pull down my lower eyelid and stick out my tongue in a classic, mocking gesture. "Last one to the Viridian PokéCenter is a Slowpoke with a head cold!"
"Hey!" Ash yelled, his face turning an indignant shade of red. "I am *not* a loser! Get back here!"
"Get in the car, girls! Fast!" Gary snapped, his cool facade shattering instantly. He scrambled into the driver's seat, tires screeching as he peeled out. "No way am I letting a girl on a wooden plank beat me to the city!"
### Into the Deep Green
I didn't stay on the main road. The "Real World" version of Route 1 was safe, paved, and incredibly boring. If I wanted to be a G-Pro investigator, I needed to know the terrain the criminals used. I took a sharp turn into the dense treeline, my skateboard tucked under my arm as I navigated the winding dirt paths that cut through the heart of the forest.
By midday, I found a secluded clearing near a shallow cave system. "Alright, team," I said, letting Torchic and Eevee down. "Time to earn those snacks. Nugget, we're working on your movement. Eevee, I want to see how you handle 'Swift' in tight spaces."
We trained for hours. I wasn't just a trainer; I was a coach. I ran drills, analyzed their breathing, and pushed them until their movements were sharp and instinctive. I was so focused on the data—on the way Eevee's tail acted as a rudder and how Torchic used her embers to create smoke screens—that I didn't notice the sky turning the color of a bruised plum.
The Spearow flock incident.
I scrambled up a muddy slope, hoping to catch a glimpse of the golden bird from the legends—Ho-Oh. But I was too late. The rainbow was already fading, and the majestic bird was nothing but a shimmering speck on the horizon.
"Missed it," I hissed, wiping rain from my eyes. "Dammit, Ash, your protagonist luck is really something else."
The Spiteful Survivor
I walked toward the site of the blast. The ground was charred. Dozens of Spearow lay scattered across the grass, fainted from the massive discharge. Most were weak—Normal class at best—but then I saw him.
In the center of the clearing, a Spearow was struggling to stand. His feathers were scorched, his left wing was dragging, and he was coughing up small puffs of smoke. But his eyes? They were filled with a terrifying, concentrated loathing. He wasn't just hurt; he was offended. He had been the leader of this territory, and a yellow rat had just humiliated him.
I pulled out my Pokedex, the screen glowing in the rain.
[Data Scan: Spearow]
Class: Pseudo-Elite
Nature: Adamant (+Attack, -Sp. Atk)
Status: Severely Weakened / Enraged
Pseudo-Elite? My heart skipped. In this world, finding a wild Pokémon with that kind of potential was like finding a diamond in a coal mine. Most wild 'mons were barely "Pseudo-Gym" level. This bird had the genes of a king.
I knelt in the mud, ignored the rain, and held out my hand. He hissed, a weak but sharp sound, his beak snapping at the air.This was the bird. The one that, in the original timeline, would eventually become a Fearow and terrorize the forest for years, nearly killing Ash's Pidgeotto. It was small for a leader, but its eyes were filled with a terrifying, unyielding spite. It was trying to stand, its wings trembling, refusing to give in to the pain.
*Me likey,* I thought, a slow, predatory smirk crossing my face. *Me wanty.*
"You want that Pikachu, don't you?" I asked quietly. "He humiliated you. He wiped out your whole flock with one lucky shot."
The Spearow let out a raspy, hateful squawk, snapping its beak at my hand.
"I can make you strong," I said, my voice as steady as stone. "I know that Pikachu. I know his trainer. If you come with me, I won't just heal you—I'll train you until you're the most feared thing in the sky. Setbacks will come, but with me, you'll never have to feel this weak again. So, what do you say? Do we take our revenge together?"
The Spearow stopped snapping. It looked at my hand, then at the smoking crater where its pride had died. It let out a low, guttural chirp and tapped its beak against the Pokéball I held out.
### The Viridian Finish Line
I reached Viridian City as the streetlights were flickering on. I was soaked to the bone, my denim shorts were caked in mud, and I was exhausted—but I was first.
I pushed through the automatic doors of the Pokémon Center, my skateboard dripping on the pristine floor.
"Nurse Joy," I panted, dropping three Pokéballs onto the counter. "Medical emergency. One lightning strike victim and two exhausted starters."
"Of course, dear! Please, have a seat," she replied with that uncanny, identical Joy smile.
I slumped into a plastic chair in the lobby, resting my head against the cool wall. My heart was still racing. I'd seen a Legend. I'd caught a monster. And most importantly, I'd beaten Gary Oak's car with a piece of plywood.
I was halfway to falling asleep when the doors burst open again. A frantic, mud-stained Ash Ketchum came sprinting in, carrying a charred Pikachu in his arms.
"Nurse Joy! Please! You have to help him!"
I didn't open my eyes, but a tired, sarcastic smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth.
"You're late, Ashy-boy," I muttered under my breath. "I told you. Last one here is a Slowpoke."
I drifted off to the sound of Ash's panicked explanations, knowing that when I woke up, the real game was finally going to begin. Team Rocket was in the city, and my Spearow was going to need a target for all that beautiful spite.
note: torchic(elite-female), eevee(elite-female), spearow(psudo elite-male).