If there was one thing Ash had learned about his new life in the world of Pokémon, it was that the universe had a very dark sense of humor.
In his old life, Barnaby—now legally recognized by the Professor as "Mystery"—was a freeloading ginger tabby whose greatest achievement was successfully begging for a second dinner while the first one was still in his bowl. Now, because of some archaic Kanto safety laws, his best friend was technically a "High-Risk Research Subject."
"Illegal to keep a wild Pokémon in town, huh?" Ash muttered, kicking a loose stone as he walked toward the sprawling back fields of the Oak Laboratory. "Tell that to the kid down the street whose Spearow literally tries to lobotomize every mailman in Pallet Town."
Because Barnaby didn't have a Poké Ball to "contain" his energy, he was stuck in the Professor's fostering program. It was basically boarding school, but with more needles and fewer summer breaks.
As Ash rounded the corner of the main lab, he saw the legendary Professor Oak. The man was currently on all fours, wearing a pair of high-tech goggles, trying to coax Barnaby out from under a heavy-duty research table with a piece of premium, organic dried salmon.
"Come now, my little orange mystery," Oak cooed, his voice muffled by the floorboards. "Just a small blood sample? A quick scan of your muscle density? I've never seen a 'Persian' with such a distinct... well, such a distinct lack of Persian-like features!"
Barnaby responded with a low, vibrating hiss that sounded suspiciously like a swear word in feline.
"He's not a Persian, Professor," Ash sighed, leaning against the doorframe. "He's just... Barnaby. He's built different."
"Built different indeed!" Oak scrambled to his feet, adjusting his lab coat. "Ash! Good to see you. Your friend here is a marvel. His cellular structure is saturated with a dormant energy I can't quite categorize. It's not quite Infinity Energy, and it's certainly not typical elemental mana. It's almost... structural. Like he's being held together by a very stubborn set of invisible blueprints."
Ash nodded absently, but his mind was elsewhere. Over the last few days, while he was supposedly "recovering," he had been doing some deep-sea diving into his own brain.
Back in his apartment, just before the Great Electrocution of 2026, Ash (then Aron) had been playing a dusty, forgotten MOBA called Overlord's Arena (OA). It was a game for the broke and the nostalgic. He had picked the Paladin, a hero known as Chen—a commander who didn't fight alone but turned wild monsters into loyal soldiers.
When the lightning hit, it didn't just scramble his eggs; it fused the game's code with his soul.
But here was the kicker: he didn't get a flashy floating HUD or a "System" that talked to him in a sarcastic female voice. Instead, he got a Legacy. It was like someone had downloaded a five-terabyte "How-To" manual for being a Holy Knight directly into his subconscious.
He knew how to brew potions that would make a tired Charmander feel like it just had an eight-hour nap. He knew the pressure points on a Machamp's shoulders to temporarily paralyze it. He knew the "Holy Persuasion" skill—the ability to bridge his spirit with a creature to unlock its hidden potential.
But there was something else bothering him.
The way his mom, Delia, and Professor Oak had reacted to his "Aura Awakening" in the woods was... weird. They weren't shocked. They didn't call the news. They just acted like he'd finally learned how to tie his shoelaces.
Did my mystery dad have Aura? Ash wondered. Is 'Heroism' a hereditary disease in this family? Every time he brought it up, Delia would just smile that cryptic, "I'm-making-pancakes-so-stop-asking-questions" smile. It was infuriating. It was classic slice-of-life anime protagonist drama, and he was stuck right in the middle of it.
"Anyway, Professor, can I have some time alone with him?" Ash asked, pointing at the ginger tail twitching under the table.
"Of course, of course! I have some data to crunch anyway. Just don't let him eat the sensors," Oak chuckled, wandering off toward a wall of blinking lights.
Ash sat cross-legged on the floor. "Alright, Barnaby. The coast is clear. Get out here, you coward."
Barnaby drifted out from under the table like a cloud of orange smoke. He looked at Ash, then at the salmon the Professor had left behind. He ate the salmon first—priorities, after all—then trotted over and headbutted Ash's knee.
"We need to test the 'Radar,'" Ash whispered.
He closed his eyes and reached into that cold, blue reservoir in his chest. Aura, activate.
In an instant, the world changed. He didn't see with his eyes anymore. He felt a pulse—a ripple—expanding outward from his body.
Pulse. Five meters. He could feel the vibration of a Pipiper's wings outside the window. Pulse. Eight meters. He felt the heat signature of the Professor's coffee mug in the next room. Pulse. Ten meters.
And then... nothing. The world went black beyond that ten-meter mark.
"Ten meters," Ash groaned, opening his eyes. "That's it? That's my 'God-tier' perception? In the game, Chen could see half the map! I can barely see the hallway."
Barnaby tilted his head, letting out a short, mocking meow.
"Don't start with me," Ash grumbled. "You know I get lost in my own backyard. If this radar doesn't get a range upgrade, we're going to spend our entire journey walking in circles around Pallet Town."
It was a classic Paladin problem. He had the "Skill Seeds"—those weird, glowing nuggets of energy that appeared in his soul when he did something heroic—but he didn't have enough "Mana" to sustain the big stuff. He was a Level 1 Paladin in a Level 100 world.
Ash spent the next hour explaining the "Trainer Tier" system to a cat who clearly only cared about the "Snack Tier."
"Look, Barnaby, it's simple," Ash said, drawing in the dust on the floor. "Most people stay Beginners forever. They catch a Pidgey, it poops on their shoulder, they give up. But we're going for Master. That's the top. But to get there, we have to break through the Elite Peak."
In this world, being an "Elite" Trainer wasn't just a title; it was a physical change. It meant your bond with your Pokémon was so strong that your life forces started to sync up.
"And I have a shortcut," Ash grinned, his eyes sparkling. "The Paladin's Skill Seeds. Every time we win a major fight or I do something 'Guardian-like,' I get a seed. I can use those to 'level up' your moves. Imagine Fury Swipes... but with the power of a Hyper Beam."
Barnaby's ears perked up at the word "power." He stood up, unsheathing his claws. They glinted in the lab's fluorescent lights, still humming with a faint, ghostly blue edge from the Aura bond.
"But first," Ash said, standing up and dusting off his shorts, "we need to figure out why the Professor thinks you're a 'Technician.' If we can master that, Gary won't know what hit him."
As the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the Pallet Town sky in hues of violet and gold, Ash led Barnaby out to the Professor's private reserve.
It was a beautiful, sprawling meadow filled with various Pokémon—Nidorans grazing near the fences, a group of Oddish buried in the soil with only their leaves showing. It was peaceful. It was the kind of life most people would kill for.
But Ash felt a restlessness. He looked at his small hands, then at the orange cat trotting beside him.
"Five years, Barnaby," Ash said. "Five years until we can legally leave this town. That's five years of training in secret. Five years of mastering the Aura. Five years of making sure that when we hit the road, the world isn't ready for us."
Barnaby stopped and looked up at the moon, which was just beginning to rise. He let out a long, defiant howl—not a meow, but a sound that echoed through the valley.
"Hey! Keep it down!" a voice shouted from the distance.
It was Gary, standing on the balcony of his grandfather's house, looking down at them. "Some of us are trying to study the elemental weaknesses of Fire-types, Ashy-boy! Stop making your weird cat scream!"
Ash just laughed, waving a hand dismissively. "Get used to the noise, Gary! It's the sound of your second-place trophy being forged!"
"In your dreams, loser!" Gary yelled back, though there was a lack of real bite in his voice.
Ash turned back to the meadow. He felt the "Holy Persuasion" seed in his heart pulse with a warm, steady light. He wasn't a shut-in anymore. He wasn't a struggling writer. He was a Paladin in a world of monsters, and he had a very hungry ginger cat by his side.