Bulbasaur, Charmander or Squirtle? It was the question that had plagued Slate Davy’s thoughts for years now, ever since he had first heard of the Pokémon League Trainer Initiative as a child, and watched his older brother, Jet, set out on his Pokémon journey.

Jet had chosen the Fire-Type, Charmander, as his partner Pokémon, so Slate had been leaning towards choosing the Water-Type, Squirtle, for its elemental advantage. Even so, he hadn’t been able to decide for sure which of the three Pokémon he would choose to start his adventure with. The problem now was, Slate and his mother were moving, and not just to a new city. They were leaving Kanto altogether and sailing to a different region.

His mother, Heather Davy, was an investigative journalist. She had recently received a call from an old friend in the Nutera region. Then, just two weeks later, she had announced that she had accepted a new job there and that they would be moving. It was all very sudden. Slate had not been happy about the news. At sixteen years old, he had already waited long enough to begin his Pokémon journey.

His mother had insisted he finish school first, and he had done so. After finally graduating from Pewter City High School, Slate had been ready to register for the Pokémon League. However, now that he was moving to Nutera, he wasn’t sure if it was still a good idea. After all, he knew nothing about the new region or the Pokémon that inhabited it. He didn’t even know what starter Pokémon were given to new Trainers there. It surely wouldn’t be the three he had been obsessing over for so long—and he never had been able to settle on one of those.

Deep in thought, Slate looked out across the water from the deck of the S.S. Anne. The journey by luxury cruise liner had been a mini vacation of sorts and had been a fun couple of days, but they would be arriving at their destination soon, and he was beginning to feel nervous about starting over all alone in Nutera. He wasn’t sure why, though. Even if he had stayed in Kanto, it was expected for new Pokémon Trainers to leave their friends behind and set out by themselves. Still, he was thankful to have Eevee for company.

Technically, the Eevee in his arms belonged to his mother, but he was considered the family Pokémon and had always been closest to Slate. Over the loudspeakers, the porter announced that the ship was approaching Nutera and that passengers should prepare for departure. Slate turned to the front of the ship and spotted the shadow of a land mass on the horizon. This was it. Slate gave Eevee an affectionate squeeze and they headed back inside.

In the cabin, Slate found that his mother had already packed up their things. She was reading a newspaper article with a pensive look on her face and didn’t appear to notice their return until Eevee leapt into her lap.

“Anything the matter, Mom?” he asked her.

“Huh?” she said in reply while absent-mindedly stroking the fluffy Pokémon, before quickly adding, “No, no. Nothing’s wrong. Just thinking.”

Slate was concerned. He had noticed his mother’s growing apprehension over the past week or so. At first, he had put it down to the stress of the move. Now, he was beginning to think there was something she wasn’t telling him.

“Right, come on, let’s get down to the car hangar and get ready for roll-off,” his mother instructed while collecting their bags. “Oh, and put Eevee away, would you? We don’t want him to get lost in the confusion.”

Slate picked up the Poké Ball lying on the dresser, pointed it at the Pokémon and said, “Eevee, return.”

Picking up his auditory command, the Poké Ball fired its scarlet disassembly ray, and Eevee gave a confirmatory squeak as it was dematerialized and returned to the safe confines of its capsule. Slate clicked the red and white ball’s minimizer button so that it shrunk down to resemble a horse chestnut, then stowed it securely in his inner jacket pocket.

Once Slate and his mother finally made it through the busy ship and down into the hangar, they squeezed their bags into their heavily packed SUV, and climbed into the driver and passenger seats. A few minutes later, the hangar door began to lower, and Slate got his first look at the Nutera region.

Ahead of them, was a bustling port town filled with surprisingly modern architecture, and behind it, in the distance, was a magnificent green mountain, which was so tall that the top was obscured by clouds. A buzzer sounded overhead and all of a sudden, the hangar full of engines came to life as drivers prepared for the roll-off. A second buzzer sounded and one-by-one, the cars in front departed and disappeared beyond the hangar door, until it was finally their turn.

As the SUV emerged from the ship, down the ramp, and into the warm Nutera sunlight, any nervousness Slate had been holding on to turned to excitement. Almost immediately, he began spotting Pokémon that he had never seen before; walking or playing with their owners, flying in the sky above, or assisting port workers. Sadly, the car appeared to be taking a route around the town.

“Can’t we stop here for a bit and explore?” he pleaded with his face practically glued to the window.

“Sorry, hon, we have a bit of a drive and I really want to get settled tonight, so we can go visit my friend tomorrow,” his mother responded. “Besides, there will be plenty of time to explore when you begin your journey!”

Slate was disappointed but replied, “I suppose so.”

He watched as their car followed a queue of those that had left the ship head upward and out of town. The left turn was cordoned off. Interestingly, it appeared as though workers were in the process of creating a tunnel through the rocky hills.

Noticing her son’s interest, Mrs. Davy explained, “Nutera is still a relatively new region as far as human habitation goes. Once that tunnel is complete, this road will connect the Nuteran Peninsula to its neighboring regions. Until then, it’s almost like one big island with Mount Legume at the center, and a few smaller islands dotted around it.”

With the tunnel unfinished, they headed right, giving them a great view of the tiered town below, the port, and the docked S.S. Anne. Soon, they were heading out of town and into an area with vast grasslands either side of them.

“So, what do you need to see your friend about tomorrow? Who is she anyway?” Slate enquired.

“Professor Jan Larch,” Mrs. Davy started, “we went to Saffron College together. She’s a Pokéologist in Hazell Town, and thinks she’s made some interesting discoveries about this region. Discoveries that could have very serious implications… Anyway, I said I would review her research and consider publishing her findings in the Pistachion Chronicle.”

“The ‘Pistachion Chronicle?’”

“My new job—the newspaper I’m working for starting next week—the office is in Pistachion City, the biggest city in Nutera.”

“Is that where we’re living?”

“No, I’ll be commuting when I do need to go into the office. Our new place is on Almony Island.”

“On an island? How are we getting there?”

“Don’t worry, there’s a regular ferry that runs between Almony and Hazell Town on the mainland. It’s only a ten-minute journey either way. The island is small, but it has a large residential district. It was a good way to lower the environmental impact of humans on the region.”

***

“Wake up, Slate,” Mrs. Davy urged.

“Huh?” Slate asked groggily.

“We’re here, sleepy head!”

“Oh, did I fall asleep?”

“Yes! You slept right through the ferry ride!”

Slate got out of the car and stretched his arms above his head. The sun was setting but there was plenty of light to take in the surroundings of his new home. The detached house was simple but a good size for the two of them. There were several rows of identical homes in front and behind, each with their own driveway and front lawn. Five houses down from them was the edge of the island, from which the distant sound of waves slapping the cliffs could be heard.

Around an hour later, the sun disappeared, and the car was finally empty. Slate got right to work trying to set up the television while his mother put on dinner for the pair of them. Strangely, though, he couldn’t get it to work, even after giving it a few good whacks. Slate wondered if it might have been damaged in the car, but the journey had been fairly smooth.

Just then, an odd humming noise made him check the screen to see if it had started up. It was still black, but the noise was increasing in volume. It wasn’t coming from the TV.

“Do you hear that, Mom?” he asked.

“Yes, what is it?” Mrs. Davy wondered aloud.

Suddenly, the noise increased exponentially, and a bright light appeared outside the kitchen window.

“Oh my goodness!” said Mrs. Davy.

“A helicopter?” Slate exclaimed. “Isn’t it flying a bit low?”

Next, more lights appeared outside the kitchen window. Black cars had screeched to a stop outside the house. Mrs. Davy rushed over to the front door, locked it, and then ran towards Slate. She grabbed him by the shoulders and in a frantic manner, told him, “Slate, listen!”

“What’s wrong, Mo—” Slate started.

“Be quiet and listen!” his mother snapped, her eyes looking deadly serious. “There’s no time for me to explain everything. I think I’m about to be taken—”

Her words were interrupted by the sound of the front door handle rattling, then, the door itself being pounded on.

“Go to Hazell Town! Find my friend, Jan! Do you understand?”

“What are you talking about, Mom?”

“DO YOU UNDERSTAND?” Mrs. Davy repeated angrily as the door burst open, revealing a strange, green Pokémon that Slate had never seen before. A mass of vines seemed to be protruding from its head, obscuring most of its body.

Slate nodded, then in quick succession, black-suited men in sunglasses flooded the house and apprehended his mother.

“I’m not fighting you. Leave my son, he’s done nothing wrong!” Mrs. Davy pleaded as they ushered her away. “Don’t fight them, Slate! Remember what I said!”

“Mom! MOM! Get off me!” Slate yelled as he was held back by three of the suits. It was no use, in an instant, the goons had made off with his mother and left him on the floor, completely baffled and terrified.

His heart pounding, Slate mustered his courage, pulled himself up off the floor and charged after them. Outside, his mother was about to be bundled into one of the non-descript cars, but Slate wasn’t going to let that happen, not without a fight.

“Come back here!” he shouted over the drone of the helicopter circling above.

The man controlling the strange Pokémon turned to face him. He looked a little different than the others. He had an unkempt beard, his jacket had an odd patch, his shirt was untucked, and his tie was loose. “Or what, kid?” he said with a grin.

Slate unzipped his inner pocket and pulled out their only hope. “You’re about to find out!” he retorted, then expanded the Poké Ball in his hand and threw it upward while commanding, “I choose you, Eevee!”

The ball spun through the air impressively, sparkling in the beam of the helicopter's search light, then fell to the floor with an anti-climactic thud. The capsule hadn’t opened. Eevee had not emerged. Slate flushed with embarrassment as his opponent roared with laughter.

“Welcome to Nutera, kid! Dreadlux, use Water Gun!”

The odd Pokémon parted its plant-like hair with its hands to reveal a mouth, from which it spat a strong jet of water that hit Slate in the gut and propelled him backwards into the neighbor’s yard. Winded and pained, Slate could only listen as doors slammed and the vehicles departed.

She was gone. Slate didn’t want to believe it, but it had really happened. His mother had been taken right before his eyes, and he had been powerless to stop it. Slate clenched his fists and pounded the soil as he struggled to his feet. He made a silent vow then and there, that he would never be powerless again.