The next week passed in a blur. Between Meltan's cautious curiosity, Gengar's moody appearances, and Mom's endless checklists, I barely noticed the days sliding by. Every sunrise felt like another reminder: I was actually leaving.
My room looked stripped bare now — no tools scattered across the floor, no half-dismantled gadgets. Just a few folded clothes, a bedroll, and the sleek gray travel pack sitting on my desk. The new bag Mom had promised.
"Spatial weave," she'd explained proudly, running her hand along the reinforced fabric. "It can hold over fifty items without adding extra weight. Experimental tech — be careful with liquids."
Of course, that warning made me immediately want to test it with something liquid.
Dad had just laughed. "Let's make sure he gets to Alola first before we turn his luggage into soup."
I smiled at the memory now, closing the bag's magnetic clasp. Ditto slid lazily from my chair, shifting into its usual track-jacket form and wrapping around my shoulders. Charcadet hopped up onto my arm, the faint heat of its armor pulsing through my sleeve.
Downstairs, the smell of coffee and metal polish filled the air.
"Morning, traveler," Dad greeted, not looking up from the counter. He was tightening a cluster of small bolts onto what looked like a metal deck with folding joints and thruster ports.
"Morning," I said, setting the bag down. "Is that what I think it is?"
Mom looked up from her notes, smiling. "It's your father's old field board. We made a few upgrades — lighter frame, cleaner thrusters, and a Rotom-adaptable power core. Should fold up small enough to fit in your pack."
Dad grinned. "Call it your emergency ride… or your first ticket to trouble. Depends how you use it."
I leaned closer, watching him slide the last joint into place. The board shimmered faintly as its magnetic panels sealed together. Sleek. Compact. Almost like it was alive.
He double-tapped the edge, and it unfolded in one smooth motion — floating a few inches above the kitchen floor.
"Whoa."
Charcadet chirped and stepped closer, tilting its head at the hovering machine. Meltan peeked from behind my bag, eyeing it like a suspicious rival.
"Go on," Dad said, motioning toward it. "Take it for a spin."
Outside, the morning wind bit at my face as I set the board down on the stone path. With a soft hum, the thrusters warmed, a pale blue light spilling underneath. I stepped on — and for a second, felt the world drop away.
It was smooth, weightless, responsive to every shift of balance. The kind of machine that made you forget gravity existed.
Charcadet clung to my shoulder with a delighted hiss, and Ditto flapped part of itself in the breeze like a loose sleeve. Meltan, however, stayed firmly inside the Pokéball, the metal sphere trembling slightly. Crowds, noise, motion — those weren't his thing yet.
By the time I circled back, Mom was already standing outside with her arms crossed, pretending not to look impressed.
"I thought you said you were careful with liquids," she teased.
"No promises," I said, hopping off.
She handed me a small pouch. "This is for expenses — emergency credits, food, supplies. Don't waste it on novelty PokéGear."
"Or snacks," Dad added.
"Especially snacks," she agreed, which was exactly why I was already planning to buy some.
Then Mom stepped closer and placed her hand on my shoulder, her voice softening. "You're ready for this, Cyrus. But remember — traveling isn't just about getting stronger. It's about learning who you are outside of everything you've known."
I nodded, unable to fully speak past the lump forming in my throat.
Dad clasped my hand, strong and steady. "You've got our research network in your PokéDex now. Call us if you find anything strange — or just to say hi."
"Yeah," I said quietly. "I will."
By midday, the sky was streaked with pale gold, and the departure hub loomed ahead — a vast floating terminal where airships and transport drones glided like schools of metal-winged Mantine.
The hum of engines filled the air as passengers streamed past: trainers with luggage and Pokéballs clipped to their belts, merchants carrying sealed crates, a handful of researchers in crisp white coats.
My group wasn't large — just me, my team, and the quiet excitement of the unknown.
The clerk scanned my ticket, nodding toward the docking platform. "Transport 7 to Hau'oli City, Alola Region. Boarding now."
I gave her a quick nod and stepped through the gate.
The ship waiting there wasn't huge — more like a streamlined glidecraft, sleek silver with glass panels along the sides. I could see the clouds already swirling below the docking struts.
As I climbed aboard, Charcadet perched tighter against me, eyes flicking to the wide windows. Ditto adjusted itself into a scarf, snug around my neck. And Meltan… stayed tucked away, the soft rattle of its body barely audible through the Pokéball.
The craft lifted gently, the hum of its core resonating through the floor.
I took a seat near the window, watching Aethern City shrink beneath me — the familiar skyline fading into mist, the lab's silver tower a glint of light before disappearing entirely.
It was strange. I'd spent so long dreaming of leaving, yet now all I wanted was one more day to say goodbye.
Then the ship tilted, the engines shifting pitch, and the horizon opened wide — endless clouds, streaks of blue ocean, the curvature of the world stretching far beyond sight.
For hours, the only sounds were the gentle rumble of the engine and the occasional beep from the navigation system. I drifted between wakefulness and sleep, images flashing in my head — Meltan's curious eyes, Gengar's mischievous grin, my parents' proud smiles.
When the announcement came, my heart jumped.
"Approaching Alola airspace. Prepare for descent."
Through the glass, I saw it — the islands rising from the sea like emeralds scattered across turquoise silk. Waves broke along white sand, and palm trees shimmered in the sun. Beyond the coast, ridges of volcanic rock stretched toward the clouds, and waterfalls glittered like moving glass.
Even the air looked warmer, golden with sunlight.
As the ship descended, I could see Pokémon soaring across the coast — Wingull riding the breeze, Oricorio dancing above flower fields, and Tauros grazing in distant pastures.
It felt alive in a way Aethern never did — wild, unpolished, untamed.
The moment we touched down, the scent of salt and fruit-filled air hit me all at once.
"Welcome to Alola," a cheerful attendant said as the ramp lowered.
I stepped out slowly, taking it all in. The hum of voices, the distant crash of waves, the warmth on my face.
"Guess this is it," I murmured.
Ditto fluttered its edge in approval. Charcadet let out a small, fiery chirp. And from inside the Pokéball, I felt Meltan shift — not exactly comfortable, but curious enough to peek out when we were alone.
As we walked away from the terminal, my new bag secure at my side and the folded hoverboard clipped to my back, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a passing glass panel — windblown hair, soot-marked jacket, and a steady glint in my eyes.
No longer just a kid from Aethern.
A traveler.
A researcher.
A trainer.
And maybe, somewhere down the road, something more.
I smiled faintly and looked toward the sun-drenched horizon.
"Alright, Alola," I whispered. "Let's see what you've got."
The wind carried the scent of salt and adventure as the first steps of a new journey began.