A sharp, burning pain shot through Lucas's skull, pulling him out of the darkness.
"Ahh my head… what is happening to me?"
His body felt heavy, his limbs numb. Grass brushed against his skin, cool and damp, but that only confused him more. He groaned, struggling to move. His eyes refused to open at first, and when they finally did, his vision was a haze of shifting colors and floating flecks of light.
He gasped for air. Panic rose in his chest as the world spun around him.
"Where am I? Why does it hurt so much? What… what happened to me?"
Fragments of memory flickered in his mind. A street. His parents smiling. Laughter. Warmth. Then—nothing. The images slipped away before he could hold onto them, leaving only an aching emptiness.
Tears stung his eyes. He tried to remember his name—thankfully, that was still there. Lucas. But the rest? Blurry faces without voices. A home he could no longer picture.
"Why can't I remember? Why am I here, alone, in the middle of nowhere?"
His heart pounded as he pushed himself to his feet. The forest around him stretched endlessly, shadows shifting between the trees. No people. No buildings. Just him.
He clenched his fists, frustration bubbling up.
"Why me? Did I… die? Is this some cruel joke?"
And then, suddenly, knowledge rushed into his head like a flood. Creatures. Names. Types. Strategies. Evolutions. It was too clear, too vivid to be imagination. Pokémon.
Lucas staggered back, almost falling to his knees.
"No… no, this can't be real. Pokémon aren't supposed to be real. They're just games… shows… stories. So why do I remember every detail? Why do I know them better than I know my own family?"
The mix of fear and confusion twisted into something else an ember of possibility. His hands trembled as he whispered to himself:
"If this is real… if this really is the world of Pokémon… then everything has changed."
But as the thought formed, so did the doubt. His voice cracked as he muttered:
"Or maybe I've just gone insane."
Lucas groaned as he pushed himself off the ground. His legs trembled beneath him, and every step sent a sharp sting through his skull. He staggered forward, clutching his side, before collapsing to his knees.
"Damn it… I can't even walk properly," he muttered, gritting his teeth.
He forced himself to take a deep breath, waiting until the dizziness faded. Slowly, carefully, he tried again. This time his steps were steadier, and he managed to stand upright.
That was when he saw it. Just a few meters away, resting in the grass, was a dark backpack. A folded piece of paper was pinned to the outside.
Lucas hesitated for a moment, then stumbled forward until he reached it. With shaking hands, he pulled the letter free and unfolded it. The handwriting was neat but strange, almost too deliberate.
He began to read.
Dear Lucas,
I can only imagine how confused you must be right now. You are wondering how you got here, why you are here, and what happened to the life you once knew. The truth is simple: you have been given a second chance. Why, and by whom, is not something I will explain. Some answers you must discover on your own.
This world is not a game. Pokémon are not toys or simple creatures to collect. They are living beings with blood, pain, joy, and love. They can suffer, they can die, and so can you. Do not mistake this chance as something that will be handed to you again. If you fall here, there will be no third chance.
You have been given the freedom to choose your own path. No mission binds you, no destiny has been forced upon you. What you do with this life is yours to decide. But remember this above all: treat your Pokémon as partners, not as tools. They will walk beside you if you give them reason to trust you.
The bag you found will help you begin your journey. Inside are the things you will need to survive and the partner who will share this path with you. Use your knowledge wisely, Lucas. This world is far greater
and far harsher than the one you left behind.
Your new life starts now.
Lucas's grip on the paper tightened as he finished reading. His throat went dry, and his heart pounded so loudly it drowned out the rustling of the forest.
"A second chance…?" he whispered. "Pokémon… real, living Pokémon… and I'm here with them."
He turned his gaze slowly to the backpack. If the letter was true, then inside were the tools and the partner that would shape his future.
With trembling fingers, Lucas unzipped the bag.
Lucas's hands trembled as he pulled the zipper open. His chest tightened with every breath, fear and anticipation twisting inside him. Inside the backpack lay six Pokéballs. Five were the standard red-and-white he knew so well, but one stood out.
A Great Ball.
The moment his eyes landed on it, something inside him stirred. He could almost feel that it wasn't empty, that something alive waited inside. His palms grew clammy as he reached for it, hesitating as his thumb hovered over the button.
"What if it's dangerous?" he whispered to himself. "What if I can't handle this?"
His heart hammered in his chest. But then the words of the letter echoed in his mind: Pokémon are real. Partners, not tools. He took a deep breath, swallowed his fear, and pressed the button.
A burst of brilliant white light shot forward, filling the clearing. Lucas shielded his eyes until the glow faded—then lowered his arm and froze.
Standing in front of him was a Growlithe.
But not quite the one he remembered from the games or shows. This one was bigger, its frame sturdier, its mane thicker, its fur glowing like living flame in the sunlight. Its bright eyes locked onto him with curiosity, ears twitching as its tail swished gently back and forth.
"...Growlithe," Lucas breathed. His voice cracked.
The Pokémon gave a soft bark, low and warm, before stepping closer. Lucas stumbled back at first, overwhelmed by its presence, but Growlithe only wagged its tail harder. Then it leaned its solid body against his leg, the heat of its fur seeping through his clothes like a comforting fire.
Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. He hadn't realized until now how desperately he had needed this—proof that he wasn't alone in this strange new world.
With shaking hands, Lucas crouched and placed his palm on Growlithe's head. The pup leaned into the touch, letting out a contented sound that melted away the last of his fear.
"You're… you're real," he whispered. "And you're mine. No—" His voice steadied, the fear giving way to determination. "We're partners. From now on, we'll face this world together."
Growlithe barked again, louder this time, tail wagging furiously. A faint flicker of flame curled from its mouth before fading, leaving Lucas staring in awe.
He fumbled for the Pokédex, flipping it open. The device hummed to life and displayed the pup's data.
"Growlithe. The Puppy Pokémon. Extremely loyal, it will fearlessly protect its Trainer and territory. Its keen sense of smell and burning spirit make it a trusted partner."
The screen shifted to a move list:
Ember
Bite
Howl
Flame Wheel
Lucas blinked. Flame Wheel already? His lips curled into a shaky smile. "So you're not just special because of your size. You're already stronger than most.