Chapter 1: The Wish of a Fan
The screen of my laptop was a cold, blue, and glaring rectangle in the otherwise cozy darkness of my hostel(dorm) room. Endless images of academic notes scrolled by, each line a reminder of the life I was expected to lead. I was a student, an engineering major at the prestigious Indian Institute of Technology, Guwahati. The future was supposed to be bright, filled with internships, a solid job, and a predictable, well-defined career path. But all I could feel was the crushing weight of boredom and a robotic schedule.
My room was a rebellion, a sanctuary, and a confession all at once. My roommate was thankfully suspended for the month, so I didn't have to hide the shrine I'd built. The walls were a vibrant tapestry of Pokémon posters—from the classic legendary Pokémon of Kanto to the legendary titans of Sinnoh. A plush Gengar, its wide grin a silent co-conspirator, sat perched on my desk chair. Piles of my actual textbooks sat forgotten in a corner, while a meticulously organized shelf showcased every Pokémon game, movie, and manga I had ever bought.
I was more than a fan; I was an otaku, a devotee of a world that existed in code and art. The Pokémon world, with its impossible creatures and its promise of adventure, was an escape. It was a place where problems were solved with a quick-thinking battle strategy and friendship, not with late-night calculus or the suffocating pressure of a competitive academic environment. I was a master of following the rules in my studies, but my soul craved rebellion, craved a life lived outside the lines.
Just after midnight, the tension became unbearable. I shut my laptop with a quiet click, grabbed my jacket, and slipped out of the room. The campus was usually beaming with life, but not this winter night as the corridors were eerily silent, bathed in the soft glow of streetlights. My feet found their own way, heading towards the one place that offered a real escape from the mundane: the hidden trail up to the mountain lake. I knew the rules—the trail was strictly off-limits after dark. A small smile touched my lips. Some rules, I felt, were made to be broken.
The climb was steep, and the air grew cooler with every step. The scent of pine and damp earth filled my lungs, a welcome change from the recycled air of the dorms. I emerged from the treeline and stopped dead in my tracks. The sight was breathtaking. The lake was a perfect mirror, reflecting a sky so full of stars it looked like a galaxy had exploded just for me. I sat on a smooth, cool rock, the cold seeping through my jeans, and just stared. The moment felt surreal, perfect.
And then I saw it. A streak of shimmering light, a celestial tear falling across the night sky. A shooting star. A wave of longing, so powerful it felt like a physical force, washed over me. Without thinking, I closed my eyes and whispered the childish wish I had always secretly harbored.
I wish the Pokémon world were real. I wish I could live there.
The words were barely out when the silence broke. The shooting star, instead of fading into the darkness, changed course. It stopped, a shimmering, pulsating orb of golden light hanging in the air. The sight alone was impossible, but then it began to move. It wasn't falling anymore; it was deliberately flying towards me.
My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drum against my bones. I stumbled back, my hands raised in a useless attempt to ward off the otherworldly light. The air filled with a sound I could only describe as pure harmony, the ringing of a thousand crystal bells, each note resonating deep in my chest. I wanted to run, but my feet were rooted to the spot, mesmerized by the beautiful, terrifying brilliance. The light grew, blinding me, and the chimes became a deafening, all-encompassing roar.
And then, just like that, everything went white. The wish was not for a new world. The wish was for a new life. And this was the beginning.