Ash's heart pounded as he followed Professor Oak up the stone steps of the lab. He had walked this path so many times in his dreams, in the anime, in his childhood memories—but now it was real. The towering structure loomed above him, half-research facility, half-sanctuary for creatures that shouldn't even exist in his old world. The morning sun bathed the walls in gold, and the automatic doors slid open with a soft hiss, inviting him into the unknown.
The moment Ash stepped inside, his senses sharpened.
The entrance hallway stretched wide and clean, the polished tiles echoing faintly beneath their footsteps. Bright lights ran along the ceiling, but what truly caught his attention was the large window to the side. It framed the endless stretch of Oak's ranch like a living painting.
Ash slowed, unable to resist.
Outside, Pokémon thrived in every direction. A lone Pidgey soared gracefully across the sky, its wings glinting as it dove toward a tree. Not far away, a Dodrio perched high on the rooftop of a storage shed, its three heads swiveling in perfect synchronization, each keeping watch in a different direction. Both Pokémon had only been glimpses from the road, but from this angle…
Ash froze.
His feet stopped moving. His breath caught.
Because beyond them lay a paradise.
The ranch unfolded like a dreamscape. Dozens—no,hundreds—of Pokémon roamed freely. Tauros herds thundered across the open fields, kicking up dust as they sparred in playful charges. Nidoran darted between bushes, squeaking and chasing each other. A Butterfree glided down gracefully, wings scattering tiny scales that sparkled in the sunlight. Off near a pond, a Poliwag splashed happily while Slowpoke stared into the water as though meditating. Further back, Machop trained by lifting boulders, while Ponyta grazed, their fiery manes swaying like living torches.
It wasn't just a ranch. It was life itself, vibrant and unrestrained.
Ash pressed his palms against the glass without realizing. His eyes widened, shimmering with awe. His chest tightened with a mixture of joy and disbelief.This… this is real. Not an anime, not a game. Actual Pokémon… living, breathing, existing in front of me.
For a fleeting moment, his old world slipped away. No school, no ordinary human limits, no mundane reality—just him and the sight of a thousand childhood dreams bursting alive.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
Professor Oak's voice snapped him back.
The old man had stopped several paces ahead, hands folded behind his back, watching Ash with a knowing smile. His white lab coat swayed gently as he waited.
Ash blinked, realizing he had frozen mid-hallway like a statue. "Ah! Y-Yes, Professor! Sorry!" He tore his eyes from the window and hurried forward, cheeks warming with embarrassment.
Oak chuckled, the sound deep and kind. "Don't apologize. Most first-time trainers stop exactly where you did. It's a lot to take in."
Ash rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, mirroring an expression he had once only seen his anime self make. "Heh, yeah… guess I'm no different."
They continued down the hall until it opened into a spacious laboratory. The air smelled faintly of paper, ink, and polished metal. Rows of machines hummed quietly, blinking with colored lights. Shelves lined with thick binders and research notes filled the corners. Every inch of the room radiated order and purpose.
But none of it mattered.
Because right at the center of the room, atop a sleek pedestal, stood three Poké Balls.
Each rested in its own indentation, a symbol etched clearly on the surface.
A blazing flame for fire.
A rippling wave for water.
A fresh leaf for grass.
The classic trio. The first choices. The very core of a trainer's beginning.
Ash's breath hitched again. He had seen this pedestal in countless fan-arts, parodies, episodes, and games. Yet here it was, not pixels on a screen but something he could walk up to and touch. Nostalgia swept through him like a tidal wave, mixing with a strange melancholy.
He had lived this before—or at least, the boy named Ash Ketchum had. But he? He was standing at the crossroad now. His life in the old world and his life here merged into this single decision.
Is this world more advanced than mine? he wondered, glancing at the sleek scanning devices along the walls, the monitors with complex data streams, the strange mechanical arms moving gently like assistants. Or is it just… different? A parallel timeline, a story branching off?
Professor Oak approached the pedestal, gesturing for Ash to follow. His tone grew ceremonial, as though he had said these same words to countless eager trainers before.
"Ash," he said warmly. "Now is the time to pick your first Pokémon. This choice will mark the beginning of your journey. Fire, Water, or Grass—it's all up to you."
Ash swallowed. He had played this scene in his head so many times. He had even written fanfics about it, dreamed of alternate choices, imagined dozens of "what ifs." And now, the weight of actually choosing pressed down on him.
He mentally sorted through the options.
Charmander. Bulbasaur. Squirtle. He avoided imagining their temperaments. In this world, each one could turn out completely differently. He couldn't rely on anime memories for their personalities anymore.
After a long silence, Ash exhaled and nodded. "Professor… after a lot of thinking, I've decided. I choose… Squirtle."
A thrill shot through him as he reached for the Poké Ball with the blue water symbol. His hand trembled slightly, but determination shone in his eyes. He pressed the button and felt the mechanism click as the ball expanded in his palm.
Light flickered—then nothing.
The Poké Ball opened with a soft snap, but it was empty.
"Eh?" Ash blinked.
Professor Oak sighed gently, though not unkindly. "Ah. I'm afraid Squirtle has already been chosen by another trainer. The boy came right on time this morning to collect him."
Ash's stomach dropped. Disbelief spread across his face like ripples on water. His jaw slackened, and his eyes darted between Oak and the empty ball.
Then, quickly, he turned it into performance. He widened his eyes dramatically, letting his mouth fall open, just the right amount of heartbreak and frustration etched across his face.
Inside his head, though, he smirked.Hah. Perfect. Nailed the shocked look. If acting were a skill in this world, I'd have just leveled it up.
"W-What? Someone already…?" His voice cracked slightly, selling the disbelief. Then he shook his head and forced a shaky smile. "That's fine! Totally fine! I can… pick another!"
Oak nodded, gesturing to the remaining two Poké Balls. "Of course. You still have Bulbasaur and Charmander."
Ash inhaled deeply, steeling himself.Okay, time to sell the next scene. Go for sincere determination. Eyes focused, like I'm rallying my courage.
He reached for the green Poké Ball with the leaf symbol and pressed the button.
Click. Snap. Empty.
"…You've got to be kidding me."
This time, his reaction was rawer, but he still layered it with deliberate performance. He twisted his lips, narrowed his eyes, and let his voice drop in disbelief.
Inside his mind, he clapped for himself. Yes! That one looked natural. I deserve an award.
Professor Oak gave a sympathetic shrug. "Bulbasaur was also claimed earlier. Another trainer, punctual as always."
Ash's shoulders slumped. He bit back his inner smirk and replaced it with a visible grimace, lips curling downward. And scene.
"So let me guess," he muttered, voice dry. "Charmander's gone too, right?"
Oak tilted his head, expression unreadable. "Why don't you try it and see?"
Ash groaned but went along, adding a bit of theatrical exaggeration to sell his irritation. He reached for the final Poké Ball—the one with the flame symbol—and pressed the button.
Click. Snap. Empty.
Ash stared at it for a long moment, silent. Then his face contorted, a perfect picture of outrage mixed with resignation. His mouth opened, closed, opened again, like he wanted to shout but couldn't find the words. Finally, he slapped his forehead with both hands and dragged them down his face in slow agony.
"Unbelievable… ALL of them?!"
Inside, though, he chuckled.Oh man, if there were an audience, they'd be applauding right now. I'm killing it.
Oak cleared his throat, trying not to laugh at the boy's melodramatic despair. "Well, you did sleep in…"
Ash's eye twitched. He forced it, too, exaggerating the twitch for comedic effect. Little details matter in acting. Keep it believable.
He stomped his foot and crossed his arms like a sulking child. "This is so unfair! How am I supposed to start my journey if I don't have a Pokémon?!"
Professor Oak smiled faintly, watching the boy's reaction with curiosity.
"Patience, Ash. Not all hope is lost. There may be… another option."
Ash perked up instantly, though he hid it under another dramatic groan. "Another option? Like what? A spare Rattata you keep in the basement or something?"
Oak chuckled. "Not quite. But perhaps something more… unique."
Ash's heartbeat quickened. He knew what Oak meant. He knew this was the moment.
Still, he thought smugly, And I just gave my best grumpy-kid performance yet. Seriously, if acting doesn't work out, I'll still have Pokémon training, but hey—good to know I've got range.
Oak's eyes glinted with mystery as he turned toward a side chamber.
"Follow me, Ash," he said softly. "There's something I'd like you to see."
Ash's pulse raced. He inhaled slowly, forcing his expression back into calm. The pedestal with the empty Poké Balls gleamed behind him, symbols of paths forever closed.
The real path was about to begin.
And Ash—no, the boy reborn into Ash—stepped forward