It was one of those days where you know it should be cold and yet it isn’t. The sun lay suspended in the midst of the azure skies, seemingly higher than usual and shining its warmth across the cloudless atmosphere. Hundreds of birds soared in the sky and there was only a slight breeze that carried fragments of orange and yellow leaves throughout the late autumn air. Despite this, the wind seemed to be rushing in my face, blowing my medium length dirty-blonde hair back as I flew down the hill, the downward rush increasing my speed.

I was much taller and older now—just under 5’8” but feeling as though I was six feet tall as I stood on my bike pedals and let momentum do the work. My shorter, darker hair blew with the rush, and the wind streamed through the sleeves and legs of my clothes, which were not only several sizes too big, but also from the guy’s section. The fierce dragon illustration emblazoned upon my shirt ruffled with the air and represented how my liking of dinosaurs had evolved into an obsession for dragons over the years. And with new likings came new hobbies.

My friend Rudy and I considered ourselves bikers—not the trick kind, mind you, but we loved to have fun at the ramp and the half-pipe. We often got together after school and on weekends to hang out and improve our limited skills.

I tightly gripped the handlebars of my bike as the ground evened out into the familiar streets of the suburbs, my goal right ahead of me. There was a slight twinge of fear in the back of my mind, but I easily overlooked it with excitement building in me. I pulled up on the handlebars at the right moment as the front wheel thudded against the start of the ramp.

“Woo! Yeah!” I yelled, raising one fist towards the sky in victory as my bike seemingly flew through the air; it was incredible. Though I was only in the air for a few seconds, it seemed to take forever and I grinned at the exhilaration. I landed several feet away with a thump and gradually veered my handlebars to double back in a wide arc, turning to look at the top of the short hill.

“Nice air, Jade! Let’s see how I do!” Rudy yelled to me while speeding downward on his bike. He was about twelve years of age, short, and somewhat Hispanic in appearance with dark brown hair that was nearly black and slightly spiked. His skin was tanner than mine and his eyes were dark brown and full of confidence as he raced downward. He was a risk-taker, someone who would take chances with hopes of fun, which often got us into trouble. Still, he was friendly, somewhat outgoing and definitely not boring to be around.

I sluggishly pedaled upward, still watching him race toward the ramp.

Which was why I never saw it coming.

A black blur raced out from the side of the street and skidded to a halt right in front of me. I swerved to avoid hitting it, but was then heading straight for a silver car parked on the side of the street.

“Gah!” I yelled, jerking my handlebars to the right. With a thud, I spun too far while going up the curb and toppled over, crashing with my bike in a sprawled heap on the freshly cut grass, staring upward into the cobalt expanse that stretched over the landscape.

Suddenly I felt heavy paws on my chest. Black fur seemingly filled my entire field of vision, and the air was filled with musty, hot breath and uneven panting.

“Ow...get off, Ebony!” I yelled, shoving the dog-like creature off of me. She lumbered off, but sat down less than two feet from me, apparently fighting the urge to jump on me again.

Which was the way it went when I was around her. She, of course, knew me, but still felt an odd instinctual sense of needing to “protect” her territory and owner—who was now standing next to his bike, cracking up.

“Shut up, Rudy,” I muttered, climbing to my feet and attempting to realign my handlebars—which unfortunately would end up requiring tools. I sighed and glanced back at the young dog Pokémon, who was still wagging her short, stubby tail with the apparent hope that she could play with us. “So how’d Ebony get out this time?”

“Dunno,” Rudy said, shrugging. “I guess I didn’t close the dog run up good enough. At least Chloe didn’t get away.” He grabbed Ebony’s collar and led her toward his backyard. The Houndour followed without struggle, although her reluctance showed with how slowly she dragged her jet-black paws.

“Oh, and I forgot to tell you…I get to take Ebony with me when I leave,” Rudy said as though I already knew what he was talking about.

“Huh?” I said, puzzled. “What do you…wait. You’re going on a Pokémon Journey? Now?!”

“Yeah, didn’t I tell you?” he asked.

“No. You didn’t,” I said flatly, rather annoyed at the sudden divulge of unpleasant information.

“Oh…well I am. You know that this year I started taking the Pokémon Handling class in school like you have. Well my parents let me apply to take the end-of-the-quarter exam.”

“Why now?” I asked. “Your twelfth birthday was in April.”

“It’s cause I had to take my third year of classes in sixth grade, so this year was my first chance to take the Pokémon Handling class and first quarter just ended a week ago,” he explained.

I sighed, as I knew altogether too well how the class credits worked. To become a Pokémon Trainer you had to have passed at least three years of semester-long Pokémon courses to show a competent knowledge of Pokémon before taking the Handling class. At the end of each quarter, as long as your twelfth birthday had passed, you could qualify to take an exam. If you passed, it allowed you to become a licensed Pokémon Trainer.

Seeing as I was in ninth grade, I’d had lots of time to take most of the classes, including Battling and Strategy, Pokémon Biology, numerous Pokéspeech courses, Pokémon Evolution, Pokémon League Law, and finally this year, the Handling class. They were a nice break from Math, History, and all the other boring core classes, but with every extra course I took, I was only further reminded of how the rest of my friends had finished their classes and left to travel with their Pokémon years ago.

“It’s not fair,” I muttered. “I’ve been taking practically all of the Pokémon electives ever since forever. But did my parents let me take the test before? No! It was always something like, ‘you need to finish your middle school education,’ but now I’m in ninth grade and I’m practically fourteen and I’m only just now getting a license!” I ranted.

“Wait, so you just now passed the test?” Rudy asked eagerly.

“Yeah, I only missed, like six questions, but even once I get my license, I’ll never be allowed to go traveling on a Pokémon Journey,” I mumbled, sighing. The main reason I was upset was that everyone else I knew had left to train and now Rudy, one of my best and only friends was leaving too. There was another reason as well, but I shook it from my mind quickly.

“So…what Pokémon are you gonna get if you passed?” I questioned, trying to change the subject. “You know the Pokémon League always makes you choose one even if you have a pet Pokémon to take with you.”

“What do you mean ‘if’? Of course I passed and you know I wouldn’t pick anything other than Charmander!”

“Of course,” I said, rolling my eyes. Rudy always was a bit of a pyromaniac. When we weren’t biking, we’d go out into an empty dirt area lighting fireworks, but Rudy would always end up doing something else, like playing a game that I called “what-will-happen-if-I-light-this-on-fire?” I knew from pictures that Charmander was a small, lizard-like Pokémon with a flame at the end of its tail.

Rudy led Ebony along a rock path and past his pool to a fenced off area of his backyard. He stepped onto the grass and over to the dog run where he opened a gate and let her in with Chloe, another puppy Pokémon of his. Chloe wagged her fluffy, cream-colored tail and rubbed her orange furred nose against the bars, but to no avail. The Growlithe then blinked her large, intelligent eyes at us in wonder before deciding to roughhouse with Ebony. Rudy glanced around the backyard and clapped a hard to his forehead.

“Oh crud! I forgot to do my chores—my dad’s gonna kill me!” he exclaimed franticly

“I could help,” I said, shrugging.

“Nah, I wasn’t even supposed to be playing in the first place. Help me get the ramp in and then I gotta get to work.”

I groaned mentally as we ran back to the front yard, grabbed opposite ends of the ramp, and carried it to his garage, setting it in a corner next to the large piles of boxes that inhabited most of the space. He wheeled his bike in and slammed the garage shut.

“I’ll see ya, Jade,” Rudy said, running to the backyard.

“Later,” I said, swinging a leg over my bike and riding across the street to my house. Rudy wouldn’t be done for a while so I figured that I could hang out in town for a little bit. I left my bike in the driveway and sprinted through the open garage, through a door, into the living room, and upstairs to my room. I glanced quickly around my small room and grabbed my backpack from the side of the bed in the corner. I snatched my wallet up from my deck and stuffed it in my pocket, hooking the chain onto my belt loop as I raced back down the carpeted stairs.

I quickly scribbled a note to my mom on the first piece of scrap paper I could find and was about to head outside when a fluttering noise in the corner by the window made me stop. I glanced over to see a small bird Pokémon flapping his wings from atop a wooden perch. His feathers were mostly a dusty tan color except for the longer feathers on his head and tail, which were brown. He chirped occasionally, not saying anything in particular, but hoping to get my attention in the smallest way possible.

“Alright, alright, Swift. You know you can come with me whenever I go for a ride,” I said, grinning and holding out my arm as the bird flew over to perch on my shoulder. I knew how boring it had to be staying inside all the time, as it was much harder for Pokémon to deal with that sort of thing than animals.

“Rrrrrr,” the Pidgey cooed as I walked outside and mounted my bike once again. Swift took flight and soared in the sky above me, occasionally chirping in contentment.

I sped down the familiar streets of Viridian City, glancing around at the numerous buildings and gas stations of the city. I didn’t intend to buy anything, but mostly I enjoyed the free time and being able to ride around aimlessly. I glanced up at the sky, taking my hands off the handlebars occasionally and not paying attention to anything in particular.

“Hey, watch it!” someone yelled.

I looked upward to see that there was someone walking on the sidewalk right in front of me. I reached frantically for the handlebars and clutched the brakes. He stepped aside as I slowly rode past him. I backed up and turned to see him clearly. He was a lot taller than I was, though probably not much older than fifteen. His hair was short, slightly wavy, and a light brown color while his eyes were an icy dark blue. He was dressed in a black shirt with a gray jacket and dull blue cargo pants.

“Sorry,” I said, slightly embarrassed that I had almost ridden into someone.

“It’s fine,” he said.

After a few seconds of awkward silence I asked, “Hey, are you a Pokémon Trainer?”

“Well, I’d have to be if I wanted to carry these around,” he said, pointing to the small red and white spheres in the black holders on his pants. It was illegal to carry Poké balls if you weren’t a licensed trainer. “Are you a trainer?” he asked. “You look old enough to be.”

“Um, no, not yet,” I admitted.

“Oh…alright then…” he said walking off.

I looked up again. The sky was bright blue and cloudless, but Swift was nowhere in sight.

“Swift!” I called out to him, pedaling hard to power my bike along the sidewalks. Where had he gone? He had never done this before. I headed toward the park and glanced along the fields and in the numerous pine trees, but to no avail.

“This is weird…” I muttered to myself. “Where the heck did he go?”

Almost as if on cue, Swift flew over a house and soared toward me. He kept gesturing to the left with his wings, as though trying to tell me something.

“What is it?” I asked.

“*Just follow me!*” he said finally in his own language. Understanding Pokémon was fairly easy after all the Pokéspeech classes I had taken, and I rode underneath him, struggling to keep up. Occasionally he would glance back to make sure I was still following him before leading me down another side street. Finally, I saw what Swift was so excited about….

We were at the very edge of Viridian City, just at the boundary between forest and city. In the distance to the west was where I saw it. Everything was gone. Destroyed. The forests on the border between Johto and Kanto had been ravaged, leaving nothing but charred ground and a continuous stream of smoke that billowed upward into the clouds blown in from the north. The sickening stench of burning flesh greeted me, and I held an arm over my nose as I continued forward. I rode down the hill and through the Western Viridian Forest before entering the midst of the death zone, struggling to look away from the dead bodies of beasts that littered the now barren wilderness. I had been out here before, but the forests I knew were gone, and likewise, the animals and Pokémon.

“What…what happened here…?” I said, gasping in awe.

Swift swooped down to land on my shoulder, gripping it lightly with his talons as I parked my bike against a tree and proceeded to look for any signs of life. My sneakers kicked up ashes as I walked, and I finally gave up checking if any of the wild creatures were still alive after a while. Every now and then I could identify a pile of ash that had once been something living, and all the creatures that weren’t totally disintegrated were charred black and deathly still.

Finally, there came a sign of movement near a pile of burnt leaves that still had the remnants of flame burning at its edge. I shifted the ashes and found a small creature underneath.

It was still breathing.

It was a Charmander, though I was only barely able to tell. Its normally glossy orange scales were burnt black, and with each breath, its lizard-like body shuddered, as though it was cold despite the fact that its body was filled with warmth. When it slowly opened its eyes, they were a dull gray color rather than the large, bright blue, curiosity-filled eyes that were normally characteristic with Charmander. The scarlet and flaming-orange colored ember that normally burned on its tail was little more than a tiny flare that flickered constantly.

I wanted to clean its burns with some water I had in my backpack, but I knew that for a creature of fire, that would only make things worse. I pulled the burnt remains away from it and slowly wiped the soot off of the lizard, taking care not to injure its blistered skin any further.

“Awful, isn’t it…” a voice behind me said.

“Huh?” I said, turning. “You again?” It was the same guy I had almost run into earlier on my bike. I glanced up at him, for I was kneeling, and therefore he seemed even taller than before.

“Yeah,” he said, turning to gaze upon at the ravaged landscape. “I was flying on one of my Pokémon and no one could possibly miss this from the air. Do you know what happened here?”

“No,” I said, a bit confused.

“Oh, well, I do…amazing how much damage humans can cause.”

“What?” I asked suddenly, picking up the Charmander and standing to my feet. “Who did this, do you know—?”

“Instead of telling you, how about I show you…” he said, walking further in the direction I had been going.

I walked quickly to catch up. “How recently did this happen?”

“So recently that it’s still happening,” was the only response. We reached the edge of a peak that overlooked an open valley between the forested hills. It was there that I saw what he was talking about.

I was amazed at how one scene could depict such sadness, cruelty, awe, and power at the same time. The most noticeable, was the Pokémon of fire, a powerful and upstanding beast with the body of a lion and powerful muscles rivaled only by the strongest of all Fighting Pokémon. Its thick, blue paws struck the ground as it ran, the billowy, silk-like fur along its back and tail ruffling with the beast’s incredible speed. Flame burst forth from its coarse brown fur, and its face was covered with brightly colored crests of yellow atop its head, red on its face, and blue along the muzzle. With each roar, it gave off an air of torment as it incinerated the surrounding area, but I could tell from the pain in its cry that this massacre was unintentional. Entei, it was called—the Beast of the Volcano, a Legendary Pokémon of living flame.

I was so awed by the legendary beast that I almost overlooked the people near it. Over fifty adults armed with powerful Pokémon or guns were pursuing Entei in jeeps surrounded by protective force fields. The giant beast constantly let loose immense blasts of fire at them, but its assaults were blocked by both the shields and powerful jets of water from the trainers’ Pokémon. Despite a blazing ring of fire that surrounded and protected it, the Entei was repeatedly struck by bullets from its pursuers.

“What—? Why…” I said, gasping. “They’re poachers aren’t they?”

“Not exactly,” he said, turning to look upon the onslaught. “You ever heard of Team Rocket? You should, living in a big city like Viridian.”

I thought back. Faint memories of the news surfaced at the back of my mind, yet they were obscured by time and the fact that I didn’t really pay attention to such things when I was young. “Um, a little,” I said.

“Yeah, I figured. It started out as a sort of widespread group of criminal gangsters. Then this millionaire guy came along and used their idea to create a huge underground organization. He recruited hundreds of members from all over Johto, Kanto, and even a few from way out in Hoenn and Sinnoh. A long time ago you probably heard about all kinds of raids on cities, mass Pokémon deaths, and other stuff. All of their recent operations are almost completely unknown to all, though.”

“How do you know then?” I asked.

“I figured you’d ask that,” he said, grinning. “I’m actually on the Johto Force of Team Rocket. High ranking, too, so I know pretty much everything about it and everyone on it. Plus I can do what I want and Giovanni doesn’t even know that I’m really against him.”

“Giovanni?” I asked. That was a surprise to me.

“Yeah, he’s the founder and leader of it all. You’ve probably heard of—”

“Of course I’ve heard of him!” I interrupted. “How could I not know about the leader of the Viridian Pokémon Gym?”

He shrugged. “I should have figured that…”

I looked back at the blazing hillside. “Shouldn’t we do something?” I asked. “I mean, if we don’t—”

“We?” he said, laughing slightly. “You have a pet bird and a half-dead lizard, so it’d be me doing everything. And I know my limits. The dragons I train may be powerful, but they’re not fast enough to dodge repeated fire from the Rockets. They’d be shot down before getting within twenty feet of the battle.”

“Oh…” I said, my voice trailing off in slight disappointment.

“If you’re that determined, then I’ll tell you this: with agents all over Johto and Kanto, if Team Rocket really wanted to execute a massive takeover, it’d be altogether too easy.”

I turned to him in surprise. “What?”

“The only reason they haven’t already is because they’re building up forces in case any trainers rebelled against them. That’s why they’ve taken to capturing Legendary Pokémon. If Team Rocket managed to create forces led by members with Legendaries, it’d be all over,” he explained matter-of-factly, as though Team Rocket being on the verge of world conquest was normal, everyday conversation.

“Then, what do we do about that?” I asked, confused as to why he was telling me this.

“I’ve been giving these out to a lot of people,” he said, handing me a small card. “It pretty much explains everything. If you become a trainer, but don’t really want to go around battling in Pokémon Gyms, then let me know.”

“But how—?” I began.

“The card explains everything,” he said again. “But don’t tell anyone else about it.”

He pulled out a red and white sphere and pushed a button on it, causing it to enlarge and open. In an instant, a flash of white light burst forth from inside it and began to take the form of a huge dragon, upright and majestic. Its skin was rough, yet a shiny flaming orange color, and it had huge, powerful blue wings with its main characteristic being the flame that burned brightly at the tip of its tail. It was a Charizard, the fully mature form of Charmander.

He replaced the Poké ball and climbed up onto the dragon’s back. It flexed its wings and outstretched them, flapping against the air and sending rushes of wind into my face. I held my hair against my head and watched as the reptile ascended into the sky.

“I’ll see ya,” the trainer said, soaring out of sight.

“Uh, later,” I said more to myself than him, wondering how and why I’d see him later. I looked at the small card he had given me and read.

Talk about anonymity. Still, it made sense, just in case Team Rocket got a hold of one of the cards. I turned back to the battle that was still continuing. It was obvious what the outcome would be, and yet I still wanted to help Entei in some way despite the fact that there was nothing that I could do. I sighed and continued to watch.

It was then that they noticed me. I was standing only about a hundred yards from the Rockets and Entei. The driver of the first jeep said something to the second, which turned abruptly and began speeding up the hill toward me.

“Ohh…crap,” I muttered to myself. In a flash, I jumped to my feet and took off running back toward Viridian, but was no match for the speed of the Rocket’s vehicle. I sprinted though the woods, my heart pounding and my lungs aching, but the sudden burst of fear kept me running onward. I had to reach my bike—nothing was more important than that. If I managed to, then I could make it to town before they caught me and then lose them on the side streets, but it was too far away.

I wasn’t gonna make it in time…

The jeep sped past me and skidded to a stop in front of me. I tried to turn and run in the other direction, but the driver threw open the door and grabbed me by the back of my shirt. I felt Swift release his hold on my shoulder as the Rocket jerked open the back door and threw me in the back of the jeep.

“Hey, what the—?!” I yelled.

“Shut the hell up if you want to live. We’re not supposed to have any witnesses, but you might get off the hook if you just keep quiet,” the driver muttered, climbing back into the front seat and driving off. He was older than most of the others and judging by a number of badges pinned to his vest, more experienced as well. Glancing up over the seat, I could see he was a tall, burly man with thick black hair and dark eyes surrounded by a stern and commanding face.

Outside, Swift dove forward and flapped his wings quickly to fly alongside the jeep, calling out to me. He then soared in low circles above us, not seeming to want to leave. One of the Rockets pulled out a small handgun and began shooting at Swift before the driver stopped him.

“Leave it,” he said. “It’s just a pigeon. Doesn’t matter if it belongs to a captive.”

I quickly turned to look out the back window and saw Swift flying high up in the sky. When he seemed sure that the Rockets weren’t paying attention to him, he swooped low again and waved his wing at me. I could’ve sworn I saw him wink once before taking off to the north, toward my neighborhood.

I only just noticed that I was still holding the wounded Charmander. It was still unconscious, but also still alive. We were nearing the main streets of Viridian and I considered yelling for help, but all of the windows were up now, and each of the Rockets was armed. There was absolutely nothing I could do, and that single fact was impossible to get out of my mind.

We continued heading east until we were once again away from the city. Finally, the jeep skidded to a halt in a small area that was mostly cleared of trees. I couldn’t see anything from the back window, and the Rockets in the front seats were blocking my view in front of the car. The driver got out and slammed the door.

I leaned forward to see out the back seat window and watched as he leaned over and lifted up a small hatch in the grass. Underneath were a keypad and a small screen. He pushed in a long and complicated password and closed the hatch.

“Identification confirmed. Proceed,” a computerized voice stated. The ground started to sink, revealing a sort of ramp that descended into darkness. He walked back and got into the car again before driving down. As we neared the end of the tunnel, the entrance behind us closed and I could see lights far ahead in the distance. We emerged into a large, dimly lit, immense underground hangar. The driver parked the jeep in an area to the side after skidding to a halt. The Rockets got out of the car and the driver opened the back hatch, grabbing my wrist and jerking me out. I held onto the Charmander lightly with my right arm. “Remember what I said. Just shut up and don’t do anything stupid,” he said, leading me toward what looked like an office door. He left me outside the door and walked inside.

It was at that time that I really thought about my position. I didn’t want to think about what a Team Rocket prison would be like, but would if the Rockets decided it was better to just kill me and get it over with? I leaned my ear against the door and tried to hear snatches of their conversation.

“So? How did it all go?” someone asked. His voice sounded younger than my captor’s, though from his dominating tone of voice and the way the other acted slightly submissive, I assumed that he was higher ranking.

“I left the rest of the squad behind to deal with an…unwanted witness…” the driver said.

“How much did they see?”

“Enough for her to know about our plans to capture the Legendary Pokémon.”

“You idiot!” the other Rocket yelled. “Did you even consider the fact that she may not have really known anything about our mission at all?! Sure, she reports some poaching of a protected Pokémon, big deal. No one would have any idea that it was us. But now she sure as hell knows too much. Honestly, Tyson, I don’t even know why I—”

“Should I just kill her?” he interrupted. My heart skipped a beat when he said that.

“No…” the other sighed. I could hear the rustling of papers. “Just—”

At once, I heard the beeping of what sounded like a cell phone. Tyson answered it and, after listening for a few seconds, said something quietly and turned it off.

“Well?” the other Rocket asked impatiently.

“Shortly after I left, it seemed to the others that Entei was going to escape into the Tohjo Mountains, so they called for backup from any nearby Johto agents. Turns out, some kid was the one who threw the ball that caught Entei, only now he doesn’t really want to give it up and he’s waiting for instruction from the Supreme Commander of the Johto Force,” Tyson reported.

“The fool…Giovanni’s word isn’t enough for him?” he muttered with scorn.

“Well, even though Giovanni’s the boss, he really doesn’t have much rule over what the Johto Force does…”

“Yes, I know…and just stick the girl on the transport jet. Let the executives at the secondary headquarters deal with what to do with her.”

I breathed a sigh of relief after hearing that, but then heard footsteps coming toward the door. I jumped back and pretended as though I hadn’t been doing anything. Tyson opened the door and again took hold of my wrist and led me to another area. I followed without struggle, knowing that rebelling would only get me shot.

“Okay, I know you heard what we said in there, so you know what’s going on, and you better not cause any problems,” he threatened menacingly.

I was then that I noticed the large, gray airplane that was in the opposite corner of the hangar. Several mechanics seemed to be making sure everything was in order, and other Rockets were loading supplies into the cargo hold. Tyson also escorted me to the cargo bay. Large boxes filled the area and more crates were being loaded in. I was thrown into a small, metal room along the side, and the door was left open. A few minutes later, another Rocket came over, jerked my backpack from me, and looked through it before shoving it back into my arms. After checking all my pockets and deciding I had no weapons or Poké balls on me, he pulled the Charmander from my arms and chained my hands and feet to the wall.

“What about the kid’s Charmander?” the Rocket called out to someone outside of the room.

“Just leave it, the thing’s near death anyway,” Tyson yelled back. “I don’t need to deal with some lizard corpse.”

The Rocket set the Charmander on the floor and shoved it towards me before closing the door.

“What should we do about the other kids?” he asked.

Other kids? I wasn’t aware that others had been kidnapped as well and Tyson didn’t seem to know what the Rocket meant either. “What other kids?” he questioned.

“Another prisoner we’ve had for a while and some other kid we caught snooping around the entrance a minute ago.”

“There’s only one cell, just lock ‘em in a supply closet or something…” Tyson said, his voice growing distant. Several minutes later, I heard the thunk of a heavy door being closed and the steadily growing roar of engines. I could feel the speed increase and was slanted backward as the plane maneuvered uphill. I guessed that the plane was heading up the long ramp that I came in by, and I could feel when the wheels left the ground.

The time alone in the cell inevitably led to my thoughts straying toward what was going to happen to me. It was always the sort of thing that you assumed would happen to somebody else. My mind kept telling me that I was going to be killed, and no matter how many times I shoved the thought out of my head, it kept coming back.

I had to do something. I didn’t plan on having my fate in the hands of some Executive Rocket. With a quick glance around the cell, I spotted a small coil of wire sticking out of a mechanism in the corner. I figured that I could manage to pick the lock if I could just reach it, but it was too far away.

“Chaaaa…” a small, high voice moaned.

I looked down and saw the Charmander at my feet finally regaining consciousness. It swayed a little before eventually standing to its feet.

“Hey, how’re ya feeling?” I asked it.

It turned suddenly toward me in shock. The lizard whimpered slightly and glanced around nervously, as though wondering how it had gotten there.

“I guess this must be pretty surprising, and I don’t know if you can walk yet, but could you try to hand me that coil of wire over there?” I asked although it occurred to me that while tame Pokémon could learn the language their trainer spoke in an incredibly short amount of time, the wild Charmander had probably never heard English in its life.

I was about the repeat the instructions in Pokéspeech, but then it went over, pulled up the thin loop of metal out of the machine, and placed it into my hand. I grasped a part near the end in my fingers, bent it over to make it thicker, and stuck the wire into the keyhole on a shackle.

It took me nearly ten minutes just to free my right arm. After that, I was able to reach the other shackles easier and had figured out the trick to unlocking them. Finally, I shook the last chain off of my left foot, picked up the Charmander and my backpack, and unlocked the door into the cargo bay.

I looked around in the midst of all the boxes and crates. The Rockets had said it was a transport jet, but for what? I opened the nearest and looked inside to find a large array of Technical Machines intended for teaching powerful techniques to Pokémon. I closed the crate and glanced through some others. Finally, I found one with first-aid items for Pokémon. I picked up the first thing I could find and read the label. “Guaranteed to soothe burns, frostbite, poison, rashes, cause open wounds to scab and any other damage done from battle to your Pokémon or—”

“Yeah, yeah, or your money back,” I finished in my head while spraying the liquid all over the Charmander’s skin. The lizard winced slightly, but soon enough, the charred flesh slowly regained its normal color, leaving only bits of scar tissue in some areas on its back. I was impressed with how well it worked, but still dug through the box. Charmander may have been healed, but it was still exhausted and completely drained of power.

Finally, I found something to fix that: an energy serum. I knew that they could make even an unconscious Pokémon awake and full of power. It had absolutely no healing power whatsoever, which was why it was good that I had already taken care of that. There was a famous battle in which a terribly wounded Pokémon was given an energy serum and sprung to its feet, fighting again, even though it was bleeding all over. It ended up dying, and the use of energy serums was banned in all Pokémon League battles.

I twisted the cap off and poured a small amount into Charmander’s mouth. Almost in an instant, the tiny flare on its tail burst into full flame. It looked up at me, eyes bright blue and attentive before looking down at itself in confusion, as though wondering how it was back to normal.

Since it seemed to understand English for whatever reason, I kneeled and said, “You doing better?” It nodded.

“Okay, Charmander, I know you don’t—” I stopped. I was sick of calling it “Charmander” and I was sure that it was annoyed with me as well. “What’s your name?” I asked.

“*Firestorm,*” it replied.

I nodded, although I couldn’t help but snigger slightly in my mind. Most Pokémon came up with nicknames for themselves that were composed of combining several fitting words, but Firestorm sounded like it was made up by some kid trying to sound cool.

“Okay, and, uh, are you a guy or a girl?” I asked.

“*I’m male,*” he said before running over to the other side of the cargo bay and pointing.

I walked over and saw several Pokémon that had been sedated and put in cages. A laminated piece of paper was taped heavily to the top of each cage. I chose the nearest and read.

I looked inside the cage, where the Pikachu was unconscious. Its back rose lightly with each breath and its short, stiff yellow fur quivered slightly. It was small and mouse-like but still seemed larger than normal. Its ears were long with black tips, and its tail was rigid and shaped like a jagged lightning bolt. One look at its face, and you could easily tell that it was a hybrid; it lacked the red cheeks of Pikachu, and its fur was long and pointed on the back of its head, like the feathers of the legendary bird Zapdos.

“*Do you think we could free ‘em?*” Firestorm asked.

“Well, you don’t need my consent,” I said, shrugging. Right then, Firestorm began shooting the flame out of his tail into a narrow stream like a blowtorch and melted the locks. For several minutes he worked, prying the molten metal away with his tiny claws and opening each cage one by one. He was melting the last lock when the Pikachu woke up. It shakily stood to its feet, blinked, and looked around. The second it noticed the cage was open, it bolted out of its prison, streaking up to the highest point it could reach and sending surges of electricity flying around. Lightning flew wild as it streaked out of the Pikachu’s body.

“No, don’t!” I yelled.

It turned to me and sent sparks flying in my direction, its eyes filled with hate. Suddenly, I heard the sound of a door opening and turned.

“Wha—what the hell?!” Tyson yelled, walking into the cargo area.

“Uhh, hey…” I said awkwardly.

He looked from the Pikachu to me and finally to the other freed Pokémon, which were still under the effects of the sedation. He then pulled out a small black sphere—some sort of modified Poké ball. The flash of light from within it took the form of a huge green praying mantis with an exoskeleton that was hard and plated like armor. Its blank, pupil-less eyes flared with mindless hatred from a somewhat reptilian green head. It flashed its impressive scythe-lined arms, seemingly cutting the very air.

“We kept all the successful experiments for ourselves. This one happens to be my personal favorite,” Tyson said proudly. “Razors, attack!!!”

At once, it lifted from the ground, zooming toward us with lightning speed, the urge to kill blazing in its eyes.