Somewhere in a dimly lit, underground hideout in the Kanto region, a heavy glass smashed against a concrete wall, shattering into a hundred jagged pieces.
"Dammit! Dammit all to hell!"
Lex, the Advanced-level operative of the mysterious organisation back in Lavender Woods, paced furiously across the floor. He had discarded his heavy black cloak, revealing his purple-and-red two-toned hair and the manic, heavily tattooed face beneath. His single remaining eye twitched with barely contained rage and mounting anxiety.
It had been weeks since the incident in Lavender Woods. Weeks since he had lost the red fragment.
He had scoured the underworld, put bounties on the black market, and interrogated informants. But finding a single teenager with a Haunter in a region as massive and densely populated as Kanto was like finding a needle in an ocean. He only had the kid's face to go on.
And time was running out.
The 'Lord' had not yet summoned him to answer for his failure, but Lex knew it was coming. The moment that summons arrived, if he didn't have the fragment or the boy's head, he would face a punishment far worse than death.
"Where is he?! He couldn't have just vanished!" Lex muttered, biting his thumbnail as he slumped onto a battered couch.
He pulled out his phone, aggressively scrolling through the League's public news networks, hoping against hope that some rookie trainer had made headlines with a sudden, impossible leap in strength.
He scrolled past articles about the recent Gym Challenge clearings. He ignored a piece on the Celadon City trade routes.
Then, his thumb stopped.
The headline was plastered across the front page of every major news outlet in the world.
TRAGEDY AT THE WILLIAMS ESTATE: WHO IS RESPONSIBLE?
The article detailed a massive invasion, the disappearance of Seth Williams, and the valiant defense put up by the aristocratic bodyguards and the League's rising prodigies. Of course, the fact that it was the Ancient Kingdom who invaded was omitted. Instead the article made it unclear who attacked the estate, but heavily pointed towards Team Rocket, pinning the blame on them.
Lex scrolled through the attached photographs of the ruined courtyard. He swiped past the images of Red, Blue, and the others.
Then, he froze.
In one of the high-resolution photos taken by an embedded reporter after the battle, a teenager in a black jacket was standing with his hands in his pockets. His expression was completely deadpan, unbothered by the chaos around him. Hovering just over his shoulder was a fiercely grinning Haunter.
Lex's single eye widened. He brought the phone closer to his face, his breath hitching as he stared at the screen.
It was him. The kid from the cave.
"Eric..." Lex whispered, the name rolling off his tongue.
The anxiety that had been crushing his chest suddenly evaporated, replaced by a dark, bubbling euphoria. A twisted, psychotic smile stretched across his scarred face. He threw his head back and began to laugh—a loud, manic, echoing sound that filled the dingy hideout.
"Found you... I finally found you!"
---
Meanwhile, entirely oblivious to the fact that his face was currently being memorized by a psychotic assassin, Eric was casually strolling down the pristine, bustling streets of Jubilife City.
"Growl!" Growlithe barked happily, bouncing alongside Eric's legs.
"Shinx." The electric-type feline kept a much closer, tighter pace on Eric's other side. Unlike the playful Growlithe, Shinx's golden eyes were constantly darting around, analyzing the passing pedestrians and the towering buildings with acute, almost paranoid suspicion.
Eric noticed Shinx's tension but didn't correct him just yet. The trauma from the Arbok Gang was fresh; it would take time for the electric-type to realize he didn't need to fight for his life every single second of the day.
As they approached a large, open-air plaza near the city center, a loud commotion broke out.
"Time is the absolute foundation of the universe! Without the steady march of time, your precious space is nothing but an empty, stagnant void!" an elderly man with a thick, white beard yelled, furiously waving a wooden cane.
"Blasphemy! Utter blasphemy!" a second old man, this one bald and wearing a heavy blue parka, shouted back, stepping right into the first man's personal space. "Space is the canvas of creation! Dialga is nothing but a ticking clock compared to the almighty, boundless expanse of Palkia!"
A crowd had formed around them, though most of the locals seemed more amused than concerned.
Eric paused, watching the two fanatics go at it.
Before the two old men could actually start swinging their canes, the shrill blast of a police whistle pierced the air.
"Alright, that's enough! Break it up, you two!"
An Officer Jenny pushed her way through the crowd. Eric immediately noticed the regional differences. This Jenny was bundled in a thick, blue winter coat with a fur-lined collar. Her skin was noticeably paler than her Kanto counterparts, a natural adaptation to Sinnoh's colder, harsher climate. Beside her walked a sturdy, disciplined Floatzel instead of the standard Arcanine.
"If you two want to argue about the Creation Trio, do it at the library! You're blocking traffic!" Jenny scolded, pointing her baton down the street.
The two old men grumbled, exchanging one last venomous glare before shuffling off in opposite directions.
Eric shook his head and continued on his way.
Ten minutes later, he found exactly what he had been looking for.
Standing at the end of a commercial avenue was a massive, dome-shaped facility constructed from sleek glass and steel. A large holographic sign above the entrance proudly displayed:
JUBILIFE BATTLE PAVILION.
Eric walked through the automatic sliding doors. The interior was sprawling and highly organized. Dozens of digital screens hung from the ceiling, displaying live matches, trainer rankings, and bracket assignments. The facility was divided into distinct tiers: Beginner, Intermediate, and Advanced.
It was essentially a league-regulated, legal version of the underground battle houses.
Eric walked up to the registration desk.
"Welcome to the Jubilife Battle Pavilion!" the receptionist smiled brightly. "Trainer ID, please."
Eric handed over his League card. The receptionist scanned it, her eyes widening slightly as she saw his Intermediate-level status and the star indicating his Breeder's License.
"Oh! An Intermediate trainer from Kanto," she said respectfully. "Would you like me to assign you to the Intermediate bracket? We have several skilled locals currently in the queue."
"No," Eric replied. "I want to register for the Beginner bracket. Level 10 to 20 maximum."
The receptionist blinked, confused. "Sir, standard regulations prohibit Intermediate trainers from 'smurfing' in lower brackets to farm prize money."
"I'm not farming," Eric said, gesturing to the two small Pokémon at his feet. "I'm training new catches. They're well within the level limit."
She leaned over the desk, looking at the Level 16 Growlithe and the Level 12 Shinx. "Ah, I understand. In that case, I'll restrict your roster for this bracket to just these two, plus one more if you have another junior Pokémon."
Eric nodded. "Add my Ralts."
"Done. Your registration fee would be 5000P."
Eric paid it without thinking twice.
"You are registered as Challenger 88 for the Beginner Tier. Please proceed to the waiting area."
Eric thanked her and made his way to the competitor's lounge. The room was filled mostly with younger trainers, many of them rookies fresh out of the trainer academies, boasting their newly caught Starlys and Bidoofs. Well, Eric was the same age as them. He just jumped levels too fast.
Eric took a seat in the corner. Growlithe immediately hopped up onto the bench, resting his head on Eric's lap.
Shinx, however, did not relax.
The electric-type stood rigid on the floor, the fur on the back of his neck standing on end. Sparks of electricity arced dangerously around his tail. He was glaring at every single Pokémon in the room, letting out a low, continuous growl. A few rookies nearby nervously pulled their Pokémon away.
Eric observed Shinx closely.
'He's too aggressive,' Eric noted mentally. 'The Arbok Gang conditioned him to view everything that moves as a lethal threat. If I don't correct this, his fighting spirit will turn into blind rage. He'll burn himself out before he even evolves.'
Eric reached down, gently but firmly placing his hand on the back of Shinx's neck.
Shinx flinched, instinctively prepared to bite, but upon feeling Eric's familiar, steady aura, he stopped.
"Calm down," Eric said softly, his voice cutting through the feline's panic. "You don't need to fight them. Conserve your energy for the arena."
Shinx looked up at Eric, his golden eyes conflicted, before he slowly forced himself to sit down. The sparks died away, though his muscles remained coiled like springs.
"Challenger 88, please report to Battlefield 4!" the intercom chimed.
Eric stood up, his eyes narrowing with quiet focus.
"Alright, you two," Eric said, looking at Growlithe and Shinx. "Let's see what Sinnoh has to offer."