Chapter 1
Title: Death and Reincarnation
Word Count: ~2500
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Chapter 1: Death and Reincarnation
POV: ???
It's funny how you never really think about death until you're in it. One second, I was stuffing a cheeseburger into my mouth while trash-talking ten-year-olds on a ranked Paldea ladder. The next? Darkness.
Literal, cold, uncaring void.
No white light.
No Arceus waiting with an acceptance letter to the Sinnoh afterlife.
Just me, thinking, "Huh... did I really die choking on a burger while rage-quitting against a Tera Flying Garchomp?"
Yep. I did.
I died like a moron.
And now, here I am.
Suspended in green goop. Naked. Limbs tiny. Head… HUGE.
I look like a shiny Magby crossed with a bobblehead.
But that's not even the weird part.
The weird part?
I can think.
Like, full cognitive function. Complete memory. Sarcasm system online. I could recite every Pokérap ever made if someone dared me.
Let's rewind a bit.
Hi. My name is—well, used to be—Adrian Kale.
Twenty-four. Former human. Professional Pokétuber.
My subscribers knew me as "The Fact Dex."
Yes, that Fact Dex.
The one who made "10 Times Pokémon Lore Made You Rethink God."
Also responsible for "Is Arceus Actually a Fraud? (Here's My 72 Reasons)."
And my personal masterpiece:
"Mewtwo is the Daddy of All Psychics and I'll Fight You About It."
Yeah. I was kind of a big deal.
Had over 9.4 million subs when I died.
Still got bodied by a Happy Meal.
Irony's a cruel Mimikyu.
Now, let's address the big, floating Rhyhorn in the room.
Why is my newborn bobblehead body inside a sci-fi smoothie tube?
Why is my only company a glowing purple figure in the tank beside me?
Because—
That's Mewtwo.
Not a drawing. Not a plushie.
The real deal. Floating just a few feet away in another tube. Silent. Sleeping. Perfect.
And me?
I'm monologuing in my head like I'm hosting a TED Talk for embryos.
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POV: Inner Monologue continues
I've seen enough sci-fi anime to know I should be panicking.
But honestly? I'm not.
I'm curious.
Also mildly offended. The person who made this tank couldn't even give me eyelids?
Everything's green-tinted and bubbly. If I had a Pokédex right now, I'd try scanning myself.
My body looks one week old at most. Tiny limbs. Newborn skin. And I can't move a damn thing. I'm basically a floating potato with Wi-Fi.
But my mind? Sharp as ever. Every tier list, every strategy guide, every meme-worthy interaction—I remember it all.
I remember staying up all night optimizing a Paldean Annihilape team.
I remember mocking people who didn't know how to counter Kingambit.
I remember crying real tears when my Iron Valiant missed three Moonblasts in a row and got OHKO'd by an untrained Azumarill.
Real trauma.
Also, I remember my favorite Pokémon.
Mewtwo.
Always has been. Always will be.
People used to mock me for that, saying it was cliché.
"Mewtwo's overhyped."
"Mewtwo's outdated."
"Mewtwo's not even that viable in Gen 9 UU."
Shut up.
Mewtwo isn't just a Pokémon. He's a mood.
Let me explain.
Mewtwo was the first Pokémon to ever terrify me as a kid.
Not because of his power—but because of his loneliness.
Imagine being created in a lab, born from stolen DNA, and your first instinct is pain.
Then you blast half the island into the stratosphere with your brain.
That's metal. That's tragic. That's beautiful.
That's why I always built my teams around him in every fan game and sim.
Even if I had to throw five matches just to land a successful Nasty Plot + Psystrike combo.
Worth it.
So now that I'm floating here, face-to-face with the real Mewtwo,
I can't help but feel like the universe is playing some twisted, fanfiction-level joke on me.
Am I dreaming?
Am I about to wake up in a hospital bed with Nurse Joy asking if I want ketchup on my Chansey nuggets?
Or…
Was I brought here?
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POV Shift: Observational (3rd Person Limited)
The chamber was quiet.
Aside from the soft gurgling of synthetic fluid and occasional hiss of pressure valves, the lab was still. Cold. Unwelcoming.
Two glass tubes stood in isolation.
In one, the embryo of a human, no older than seven days. His eyes wide open, though the body was incapable of motion. Brain activity off the charts.
In the other… the figure that once made the Kanto region tremble.
Humanoid. Feline. Engineered from the DNA of the rarest Pokémon ever recorded.
Mewtwo.
Unconscious.
Untouched.
And yet, his aura pulsed—like a god on the verge of waking.
Above them, monitors flickered. Lines of unreadable code ran endlessly across the screens.
None of it revealed who had created the place, or why.
But if one stood close enough to the glass… they might hear something.
From the smaller tank, faint thoughts were humming.
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POV: MC Inner Monologue
You'd think being reborn would give me some kind of deep emotional enlightenment.
A spiritual reset. A new path in life.
But no. I'm already trying to figure out how to break out of this lab and steal Mewtwo.
I mean, come on.
Me. Him. Buddy cop movie potential is off the charts.
Imagine:
"Psychic Boomers: Two Test Tube Legends Against the World."
I'll work on the title.
But for real, I'm starting to suspect I wasn't just randomly dropped into the Pokémon world.
This feels too… targeted.
Like a deliberate, scripted event.
Like someone chose to put me here—with him.
I'd love to ask questions.
But I have no mouth.
And I must meme.
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POV Shift: Narrator (Descriptive)
Time passed.
The fluid in the tanks stirred gently.
Outside, unseen mechanisms kept the two alive. Nourished. Preserved. Growing.
The world around them remained hidden—its laws, its conflicts, its politics and powers.
But within the confines of green glass, something stirred.
Not in Mewtwo.
But in the boy beside him.
He wasn't a clone.
He wasn't a creation.
He was a disruption.
And somewhere deep inside that infant frame—Adrian Kale was beginning to grin.
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POV: Adrian (Internal)
Okay, okay. Let's review my situation like I'm still doing a video essay.
Title: "Top 5 Signs You've Been Reincarnated in a Pokémon Fanfic Without Your Consent."
1. You're in a weird lab tube.
2. You're physically a baby.
3. Your brain still works and you remember all your dumb content.
4. There's a sleeping Mewtwo right next to you.
5. You're 93% sure you're not in the Nintendo-approved version of reality.
Let's just hope this isn't a Pokémon x Warhammer crossover, or I'm about to get yeeted by a Tau drone.
Anyway, no sign of a professor.
No sign of Nurse Joy.
Not even a single talking Rotom Phone.
Just me.
And him.
The funny part?
I don't feel scared.
I feel... excited.
It's like the whole world's paused just before the title screen appears.
I don't know who made this body.
I don't know why I'm here.
But one thing I do know?
When I get out of this tube, I'm going to shake the Pokémon world harder than an Earthquake spammed by a max IV Garchomp in Rage Mode.
This isn't Kanto.
This isn't Paldea.
This is my game now.
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End of Chapter 1
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Let me know when you're ready for Chapter 2.