The lab door creaked open, and Professor Oak shuffled in, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "Up early, I see," he said, glancing between Erick and Alakazam. "What's this about?"
"Erick possesses a faint telepathic gift," Alakazam's voice echoed, audible to both. "It is weak but present. With training, it could be significant."
Oak's eyebrows shot up. "Telepathy? That's rare indeed." He studied Erick, a mix of curiosity and respect in his gaze. "Some humans have psychic abilities—telekinesis, telepathy, even teleportation in the rarest cases. Sabrina, the Saffron City gym leader, is the only one with such power. Her abilities are… exceptional, to say the least. She's an outlier, proof of how potent these gifts can be. Yours sounds like telepathy alone—a powerful tool if you master it."
Erick swallowed, processing. Sabrina is a gym leader and psychic prodigy. He'd faced her Alakazam in the games, but she was a living legend here. "I'll work on it," he said, voice steady despite the weight of it all.
"Good," Oak said, clapping his hands. "Now, let's get you settled. We've got a lot to cover."
They moved to the kitchen, where Oak brewed a pot of coffee—dark and bitter, a taste Erick savored as it cut through his fog. Mudkip toddled in, yawning, and Erick lifted it into his lap, stroking its head. Its Swift Swim ability, impossible in the games, felt like a quiet promise of this world's unpredictability.
"First things first," Oak began, sipping his coffee. "You're welcome to stay here as long as you need. Pallet Town's quiet, good for healing. But I sense you're not one to sit idle."
Erick shook his head. "I need to understand this world—how it ticks, what's out there. And I need to get stronger. For Mudkip, for myself."
Oak's eyes gleamed with approval. "A trainer's path, then. It's not easy, but it's a way to grow, to protect what's yours. I can equip you with tools and knowledge. The rest is yours to forge."
"I'm ready," Erick said, though doubt gnawed at him. This wasn't the Pokémon games; it was life or death, and he was starting from nothing.
"Good. We'll start with the essentials. You'll need a Pokédex—a device for cataloging Pokémon, their traits, and behaviors. They're rare, but I've got one for you." Oak's expression softened. "You remind me of my grandson, Gary. He's not here yet—still a few years from his journey. But he's got that same fire."
Erick managed a faint smile, the name stirring memories from the games—Gary, Ash's rival. Here, though, Gary was just a kid, not yet a trainer. Another piece of this world's puzzle, one he'd unravel later.
Oak led him to a bulky computer in the main lab, its screen glowing softly. "This is the Pokénet," he said. "Our information network. You can research Pokémon, regions, history—anything you need."
Erick's fingers itched to dive in. Knowledge was power, and he was desperate for it. "Can I start now?"
"Be my guest," Oak said, clapping his shoulder. "But don't overdo it. I'll be in the back, checking the Pokémon. Take your time."
Erick settled into the chair, Mudkip hopping up beside him. The Pokénet's interface was sleek, blending familiar and alien elements. He began with Kanto's basics: towns, routes, Pokémon. Pallet Town was a speck, dwarfed by hubs like Saffron and Celadon. Route 1 led to Viridian City, home to wild Rattata, Pidgey, and Spearow—manageable, but he'd need to stay sharp.
He delved into the Pokémon League next. It was a defense network, not just a sport, training trainers to counter disasters and threats like Zapdos. Gyms were tiered, with Tier 3 being the elite eight, the pinnacle of prestige. Badges unlock privileges—more Pokémon, better resources. The rules were complex, a web he'd need to master.
Hours slipped by as he scoured articles, his mind soaking up details. The Kanto-Johto war ended twenty years ago and left scars—travel bans, trade disputes, and Hoenn's lingering resentment. Some history was locked, marked restricted, hinting at a past people wanted forgotten.
A soft hum broke his focus. Alakazam floated over, its presence a gentle nudge. "You seek understanding, but do not neglect your gift. Practice your telepathy—it may prove vital."
Erick nodded, closing his eyes. He pictured Mudkip and thought, Hey, can you hear me?
A faint pulse answered, like a nod. Mudkip's eyes widened, and it chirped, "Kip!" Erick grinned, a rush of excitement hitting him. It worked.
"Well done," Alakazam said. "With time, you will master it. But be discreet—such abilities draw attention."
"I'll keep it quiet," Erick vowed. He didn't need scrutiny, not when he was still an outsider finding his way.
The day blurred into training and study. Oak introduced him to the lab's Pokémon—Bulbasaur, Charmander, and Squirtle, the classic starters—and Erick marveled at their vitality and quirks. He tested telepathy with each, sending simple commands and feeling their responses. It was exhausting, like flexing a new muscle, but exhilarating.
By evening, he was spent. Oak served a hearty stew, and they ate in companionable silence, Mudkip dozing by the fire, its Jolly energy subdued by a full belly.
"You're picking this up fast," Oak said, breaking the quiet. "Most would be lost, but you're… grounded."
Erick shrugged, stirring his stew. "Got to be. This is my life now."
Oak studied him, then nodded. "You're not alone, Erick. You've got Mudkip, and you've got me. Soon, you'll have a team."
Erick glanced at Mudkip, its warmth a reminder of his purpose. "Yeah. We'll make it work."
That night, on the cot with Mudkip curled beside him, Erick's thoughts raced. Telepathy, a Pokédex, a world to conquer—was daunting, but it was his. He'd learn, grow, and carve out a place in this second chance.