John's Point of View
So... this is really happening.
The air shifted in that quiet, meaningful way nature does when it knows something important is about to happen. The trees rustled—not from wind, but from soft footsteps brushing past thick leaves. Even the earth under my feet felt more alert, like it was listening. Waiting.
And Mama?
She was beaming.
Not just smiling—beaming. That "I've been waiting for this moment for years and I'm going to enjoy every single second of it" kind of look. The kind of look that says you're about to witness something unforgettable.
Should I be nervous? Excited?
Then I remembered—I'm "two years old." Supposedly.
I widened my eyes, tilted my head just enough, and let out a gentle, "Ooh?"
Perfect innocent child mode: fully engaged.
And just like that, the first one appeared.
From the left edge of the clearing, the underbrush parted with the sound of squelching mud. He stepped out—not with thunderous stomps, but with calm, deliberate ease. He wasn't massive. More like... sturdy. Solid. Standing a little taller than Mama's waist, he had a strong, stocky body built like a swimmer crossed with a bulldozer.
His blue skin gleamed with dampness, his wide limbs ending in thick, webbed fingers. Two dark fins arched over his head, twitching slightly as he scanned the clearing. Orange whisker-like gills flared from his cheeks, twitching with each breath. His golden eyes locked onto Mama—and then softened.
There was strength in every movement. Quiet, steady strength.
Mama's voice lowered, proud and gentle.
"John, this is Swampert. He's my first partner. My starter."
Swampert let out a low breath—not a growl, not a sigh. Something warmer. Like a hum from deep in his chest. Then he raised one hand and gave me a small wave.
I blinked up at him.
He wasn't huge—not like the dragons or titans I remembered from my old life. But there was a presence to him. A quiet power. Like if you gave him a boulder and five seconds, he'd turn it into pebbles without breaking a sweat.
"Wow... he's so big..." I whispered anyway, stepping forward just enough to sell the part, my hands clasped neatly behind my back.
Swampert's head tilted slightly, one fin twitching. He looked surprised—not threatened. More like... curious.
I gave him my best soft smile.
"Hi."
He blinked, once.
Then dipped his head ever so slightly, a silent greeting in return.
Before I could say more, another figure stepped into view—this one from the treeline on the right. She was sleek, elegant, and almost ghostlike in her stillness. White fur gleamed under the sun, her face framed by a sickle-shaped horn curved like the crescent moon. Crimson eyes met mine. Silent. Calm. Almost... judgmental.
Mama's tone changed ever so slightly. Respectful. Tender.
"This is Absol," she said, "My second partner. She came into my life during a very hard time."
Absol stared at me for a long moment. I tilted my head again—mirroring her.
"Pretty..." I said quietly.
She narrowed her eyes just a little. Not in threat—more like curiosity.
Was she trying to read me?
Good luck with that.
The next one arrived from above—literally. A shadow passed overhead, and then a gust of wind knocked my hair back as a large bird dove gracefully from the clouds. Her wings were wide and strong, feathers like polished steel with streaks of warm gold and white. She landed lightly beside Mama, head raised high.
Mama chuckled. "This is Pidgeot."
Pidgeot gave a proud cry, flaring her wings as if to say, Yes, I know I'm beautiful. And yeah... she was. Regal. Commanding.
I gave her a respectful clap, smiling just enough to seem amazed.
Then the earth shook.
Slightly. But enough.
Enough that I felt it in my chest.
And then—
He came.
Towering.
Towering and blue.
A massive, serpentine body slithered halfway from the river's edge through the trees behind us. Crimson eyes stared down at me from above, and a deep, rumbling growl sent birds scattering from the treetops.
Gyarados.
Not red—so not shiny. But blue. Regular. Normal.
And still?
My eyes sparkled. Gyarados was one of my all-time favorites.
I didn't even have to fake it.
I took one big step forward and gasped softly, letting my face light up with pure wonder. "He's soooooo cool..."
My hands clenched in front of my chest to stop myself from bouncing in place.
Gyarados lowered his head slightly—almost hesitant. Testing me. Most kids would've cried or run.
I just looked up at him with open admiration.
"You're amazing," I whispered under my breath.
I knew my tone gave nothing away. Not fear. Not suspicion. Just wide-eyed wonder.
Gyarados blinked. Once.
And I swear, the tension in his jaw relaxed.
Mama was staring at me again.
Not smiling.
Just staring.
Quiet.
Then a flash of soft light shimmered near a cluster of flowers—and a gentle fluttering sound followed.
A delicate, pastel-colored Pokémon floated into the clearing on dainty wings, her body glowing faintly in the light. Large compound eyes blinked down at me, and her antennae curled slightly in greeting.
"Butterfree," Mama said warmly. "She was rescued from a poacher's trap. She's a healer at heart."
Butterfree chirped softly and circled above me once before drifting down to land lightly on Mama's shoulder.
I offered a tiny wave and whispered, "Hello..."
She responded with a cheerful trill.
Still no spoken words. Still no activation of Verdant Spirit. I stayed patient.
I was just about to ask if that was all when Mama's entire expression changed.
Her smile was... off.
The air suddenly felt colder.
Still sweet. But also... dangerous.
Her eyes gleamed like polished glass, and she tilted her head slowly toward the edge of the clearing, where a thick wooden post stood tall and unbothered.
"There's one more," she said softly.
And then—without warning—
Boom.
Something exploded from the shadow behind the post.
A dark blur launched into the air toward me, eyes glowing, mouth stretched in a manic grin, and arms outstretched like claws ready to grab. Shadows swirled and stretched unnaturally as the final Pokémon leapt from them like a demon come to play.
Gengar.
But he didn't scare me.
Not even a little.
I just blinked and watched as he tried to leap-scare me like some haunted house gremlin.
Before he could land, I stepped forward, raised a hand, and gently patted the top of his head.
"Nice try," I said with a grin. "But you'll have to try harder than that."
He paused mid-hover, clearly startled by the lack of reaction.
Then his head tilted like a confused Drifloon, and he slowly floated backward until he was half-hidden in the shadow again, peeking out with curious eyes.
He was about waist height, so it was easy to reach his head even without stretching.
Mama was staring.
Mouth slightly open.
Eyes wide.
Not at Gengar.
At me.
Like I'd just broken reality.
I turned to her and—
Oh.
The Pokégear in her hand was glowing red.
She'd been recording everything.
Of course she had.
I gave her my best sheepish smile and scratched the back of my head.
"...Was that the whole team, Mama?"
She nodded slowly, eyes still locked on me like she couldn't decide if she was dreaming or not.
And me?
I just smiled sweetly.
Like the innocent little two-year-old I definitely am.