Breaking News: Cult Destroys Larkspur Town!

  Anchor: "Tragedy has struck Larkspur Town, leaving it in ruins. Authorities are still investigating the full extent of the attack, but the League has confirmed that the perpetrators were members of the 'Cult of Chaos.' Today was meant to be a joyous occasion—the town's 100th-anniversary celebration—but the cult used the gathering as an opportunity to strike. It remains unclear what Pokémon was used in the attack, but sources confirm it involved 'Darko Meteor.'

  "In response, the League has decided to open an orphanage in Pallet Town. All children from Larkspur will be enrolled in the prestigious Oak School. Now, we can only pray to Aru that these children will be safe."

  "This was Pokémon Daily News, brought to you by the League."

  "Now, in front of you are 10 Pokémon eggs, but only 10 of you will be choosing today. I will call you up one by one based on your family name. First, John, step forward."

  John approached the eggs, carefully choosing one before returning to his seat. Two more students followed before the teacher called: "Ben, your turn."

  A 14-year-old boy with red hair and blue eyes stood up. He wasn’t particularly tall—just an average kid for his age. Before him, seven white eggs remained. As he moved from one to another, a strange sensation washed over him.

  "What is this weird feeling?" he thought. "I feel... connected to this Pokémon before it's even born. My entire body is telling me to choose this egg."

  The moment his fingers touched it, his choice was clear. As he lifted the egg, the teacher suddenly spoke.

  "Interesting. You've chosen the only egg native to the Forsaken Region. Take care of it."

  Ben returned to his seat as the rest of the class selected their Pokémon.

  Once the ceremony ended, Mr. Boon addressed the class:

  "Although you all have Teraphones, the Pokedex app will remain locked until you become official trainers. When your egg hatches, bring it to me, and I will provide its information. Remember, starting today, your journey to becoming an official trainer has begun. The school will evaluate how you care for and train your Pokémon. Good luck, and class dismissed."

  Ben returned to his dorm, carrying the incubator with his newly acquired egg. His heart raced—he was finally at the starting line of his dream.

  The dorm had two beds—Ben slept on the bottom bunk, while the top bunk belonged to his best friend, Mike. The two had survived the Larkspur attack by sheer luck, playing outside the city while the adults finished setting up the festival.

  As Ben got lost in thought, a voice startled him. "Man, I’m so jealous! I must wait another year before I can get my own Pokémon," Mike groaned.

  Ben shot him an annoyed look.

  "Can you NOT jump-scare me like that?!" he huffed. "Anyway, yeah! I finally got my own Pokémon. And according to Mr. Boon, it’s from the Forsaken Region! No one knows much about that place, but I hope it’s strong and cool—like Master Oak’s Charizard!"

  Mike rolled his eyes.

  "Ugh, you’re fanboying over Master Oak again. Can’t you be normal and join the 'Cult of Pope Cynthia,' the most beautiful woman in the nine regions?" Ben scoffed.

  "You mean the most fanatical woman in the nine regions? Besides, why are you acting like you know what women from the Forsaken Region even look like?"

  The two playfully bickered, but Ben realized something—his incubator was still in his hands.

  "Great," he thought. "The first thing my Pokémon ever hears is me arguing. Oh well… it's going to have to get used to it."

  Ben carefully placed the incubator on his drawer next to his bed. He had read that Pokémon eggs can understand speech the closer they are to hatching. Since the school estimated they would hatch between one week and a month, they were already at the stage where they could start learning.

  Ben talked to his egg for hours, telling it everything about his life. Finally, he concluded:

  "And that's why I want to become a cult hunter. Anyway, it's late now. Good night, little guy—I hope to meet you soon."

  One week after the selection, the first egg hatched. It belonged to Reed and revealed a Starly, a Pokémon native to Sinnoh.

  "Maybe some of you know it, but this Starly is Sinnoh's regional bird, just like Pidgey is to Kanto," Mr. Boon explained. "Most of you have seen its final evolution before—it's a regular conference competitor. I'll give 500 credit points to whoever correctly guesses its evolution. You only get one guess per hatching, and this will be a recurring event for every new Pokémon."

  With that, he brought the class back inside.

  "Now that you have your Pokémon, it's time to discuss something important—your starting region."

  "As part of the Eastern Continent, your four options are Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, and Sinnoh. Today, we'll go over each of them."

  "Let's start with our region, Kanto—the heart of the League, the shining example of order and strength. The League's control here is absolute, and that's how it should be. Crime is nearly non-existent; even when trouble arises, it is swiftly handled. Yes, we've had… incidents. But compared to the chaos of other regions, we remain the model of stability. Kanto stands above all others, and it's no coincidence that both the League President and the Eastern Champion hail from here. It's proof of our superiority."

  "Next, Johto—our so-called sister region. We share history, but where Kanto embraced progress, Johto clings to the past. Many there resist the League, refusing to see that without it, their region would crumble into lawlessness. Still, Johto isn't beyond saving. There are strongholds of order, like the Blackthorn Clan, who understand the importance of discipline. But make no mistake—Johto is weak because of its own stubbornness."

  "Then there's Hoenn—the most unstable region on the Eastern Continent. We call it the Land of Conflict for a reason. Two factions—Water and Earth—are locked in an endless struggle for dominance. The Sky faction exists, but they do not fight. They meddle, trying to keep some balance, but balance means nothing when the other two forces refuse to stop clashing. Now, the Water faction has produced a strong contender for Hoenn's Champion seat. We watch and wait to see how the Earth faction responds. But Hoenn's nature won't change—it thrives on conflict."

  "And finally… the fanatics—oh, excuse me, Sinnoh—home of the Church of a Thousand Hands, self-proclaimed 'spiritual leaders' of the Pokémon world. The League tolerates them because they give people hope; sometimes, people need stories of gods and creation to cling to. But don't let their peaceful image fool you. The Church weaves its influence into every corner of Sinnoh. If you are not one of them, you are an outsider. And you should never trust a fanatic."

  "Those are your choices. As your teacher, I strongly recommend Kanto or Johto. Kanto is the hardest, but our trainers are the best in the world. Despite its flaws, Johto still produces excellent trainers—Mount Silver's Victory Road is among the most challenging. Hoenn is too unstable, and if you are not religious, Sinnoh will never truly accept you. If you want to learn about the Western continent, visit the library and ask for permission. And remember—only those above 16 have internet access. Class dismissed!"

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  Once class ended, everyone rushed to the library to search for information on the Starly line. The 500 CP wouldn't be much help right now, but it was still one of the most important resources for a trainer. Almost every bit of information was locked behind CP. The only reason Oak School had a library at all was because Master Oak invented the Pokédex, which had since evolved into an app. The library was usually off-limits, accessible only on a need-to-know basis—like this class assignment. Their class had access to the Sinnoh section, specifically the Flying-type subsection.

  While everyone browsed through the books, John suddenly bolted out of the library, prompting the others to follow him. The moment he saw Mr. Boon, he shouted, "Staraptor! Staraptor is Starly's final evolution!"

  As soon as the words left his mouth, everyone groaned and facepalmed. It was so obvious now that they couldn't believe they hadn’t figured it out sooner. They hadn’t needed Mr. Boon to point it out. They had been so fixated on the "one guess" rule that they stopped thinking for themselves.

  While everyone was gathered around Mr. Boon, two other teens came over, saw the commotion, and snickered.

  "Look at these losers," one of them said. "Seriously, how'd they end up at the same school as us?"

  The other chimed in, "Don't worry, it's simple. All you need to do is cry loud enough for access, and bam, you're in."

  As they laughed between themselves, John was the first to snap. "Yo, assholes, what's your problem? Does bullying orphans give you some kind of power trip?"

  Peter, the first arrogant kid, shot back, "Oh, please. Orphan this, orphan that. You're not the only orphan in the region. But look at you—here you are, somehow, and you think you're special."

  John gritted his teeth. "Yeah, it’s a privilege. That’s why every single one of us will do everything we can to help the League. What about you? Acting all self-righteous while your mommy and daddy bought your way in."

  Peter snorted. "You think I’m gonna apologize for the head start my parents gave me? Oh, please. 'Help the League,' huh? Bet none of you even finish the Gym Circuit, let alone make it to Victory Road."

  The back-and-forth continued, but Ben remained mostly quiet, just listening, trying to process all the information. John was talking about allegiance to the League, but Ben remembered something else—his parents never trusted the League. They didn’t believe in it. But if he wanted revenge and to make a name for himself, he knew the only way forward was to work with them.

  A week passed, and the excitement was palpable as John’s egg finally hatched. The moment Ben saw it, he immediately shouted, "Rapidash!"

  John’s new Ponyta was beautiful; its fiery mane danced with each movement. Everyone instantly recognized the Pokémon, a famous Kanto native known for its speed and grace in the Ponyta races.

  Next, it was Amy’s turn. She revealed a Makuhita, a Fighting-type Pokémon from the Hoenn region. The class was silent for a moment. No one recognized the Pokémon, and Mr. Boon noted their confusion.

  "You’ll all need to hit the library after class to read up on Makuhita," Mr. Boon said. "It’s a rare sight around here, but an important Pokémon for those who understand Hoenn’s battling culture."

  "Good. With that out of the way," Mr. Boon continued, "let’s talk about your journey ahead."

  The students sat up straighter, eager to learn more.

  "Most of you know how the journey works. Part one is the Gym Circuit. You travel around the region, collecting badges from the eight major gyms. I recommend you also visit the minor gyms. It's good practice, and you’ll earn more CP and sometimes even TM moves."

  The students nodded, hanging on his every word.

  "Your journey must be taken on foot or by bicycle—no other forms of transportation are allowed, unless in extreme cases approved by the League. Because of this rule, travel routes go all over the region, bypassing dangerous places like forests and mountains. However, on these routes, you'll only encounter native regional Pokémon—those that belong to this region."

  Ben raised his hand, curiosity sparking in his eyes. "Wait, so… these travel routes are the only places where we'll encounter regional Pokémon? What about the rest of the region? I'm guessing there's more to explore?"

  Mr. Boon raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile on his face. "Ah, good question, Ben. The travel routes are safer, but if you're looking for something truly challenging, there are the off-routes—wild, uncharted places where Pokémon from all regions roam.

  But and I can't stress this enough, they come with a huge risk: You'll be completely on your own. No Poké Marts, no safe zones to rest, and no one around to help if things go south. The terrain is harsh, and the Pokémon there are unpredictable. It's dangerous—many trainers never return from the off-routes."

  The room grew quieter as the weight of Mr. Boon’s words sank in.

  "Most trainers stick to the travel routes. It’s safer and more controlled. But… some go looking for rare Pokémon—the kind you can't find anywhere else. Those who choose to take the off-routes do so knowing the risks, but also knowing the rewards can be worth it. If you're not prepared for what lies ahead, though... you might not make it back."

  The class fell silent at the thought of the danger.

  "The second part of your journey is Victory Road," Mr. Boon continued, his tone growing more serious. "Victory Road is a huge mountain the League uses to test if you're a great trainer. It's more unforgiving than anything you'll experience during your journey. Only the strongest survive."

  Ben could see the determination in the others' eyes. The journey was about to get real.

  "Of course, Kanto set the precedent with Victory Road, and every region followed our lead. As trainers, you'll have to push yourselves to your absolute limit. And when you reach the end, the League will decide if you're worthy of your next challenge."

  The students looked at each other, ready to face the challenge head-on.

  That evening, Ben sat in his room, talking to his egg as he had for the past two weeks. He spoke to it as if it could understand him—telling it about his day, what he had learned, and even sharing his worries.

  Mike barged into the room, frustration spilling out. "Man, you're learning about the regions and the journey, and I'm stuck reading about League history—how great Mr. Goodshow was, how brilliant he was, how he made the League what it is today, and why Goodshow Day even exists. Blah, blah. All I want is to be his trainer!"

  Ben just nodded along, letting his friend vent.

  After Mike had let it out, the mood shifted. His voice softened. "Man, I miss my mom. It's been five years since the attack…"

  Ben froze. The words hit like a brick to the chest. The room felt quieter, heavier. Memories of his own family flooded in.

  His mom—red hair always tied back in a neat ponytail, always smiling. His dad, who wore pajamas everywhere, had once been a skilled trainer, though he never finished the gym circuit. After Ben was born, they opened a small café—The Café of Larkspur. It became their sanctuary, a peaceful and happy little place in the heart of the city.

  Ben also had a younger sister, Lily, four years younger than him, who always looked up to him. On the day of the attack, she had been inside the city with their parents. He still remembered her hugging him before he ran off to play with his friends.

  He also remembered something else: his parents' deep mistrust of the League. They always told him never to fully trust anyone—especially the League. They never explained why.

  It was hard for Ben to reconcile their warnings with the care the League provided now. They had taken in so many orphans and given them homes, education, and purpose. He wanted to believe in the League. But somewhere, buried deep, was that same doubt his parents had carried.

  Sometimes, he wondered if he'd ever fully understand their reasons.

  For now, though, all he could do was carry on. He had joined the League like so many others. But part of him still felt... off. Mistrustful. Maybe one day, he’d understand where that feeling came from.

  A faint glow pulled him out of his thoughts.

  Ben looked down. The egg was glowing in his lap.

  His heart skipped a beat. Small cracks began forming along the surface.

  It was hatching.

  Excitement surged through him. He leaned closer, watching the cracks spread. Within moments, the shell split apart, and a small creature wobbled out.

  It had a long white nose with a red tip, a brown body with blue stripes along its back, and flat hands shaped like drills. It looked around with wide, curious eyes—and then, suddenly, it leapt onto Ben’s lap.

  "Drilbur! Drilbur! Dril, dril!" it chirped gleefully, rolling across his legs in a fit of laughter.

  Ben blinked in confusion. "Drilbur…? What are you—?"

  Before he could finish, the Pokémon jumped down and began tearing across the room. Its little drills tore through the carpet like butter.

  "Drilbur! Drilbur!" it shouted, happily digging a massive hole in the middle of the room.

  Ben scrambled after it. "Hey—wait! Stop!"

  But Drilbur just kept laughing, spinning, and digging. Utterly oblivious to the chaos.

  "Mike!" Ben yelled. "Mike, what the hell are you doing?! Help me!"

  Mike had just been standing at the door, watching in awe. He turned and laughed. "Looks like you've got your hands full, huh?"

  Ben could only stare at the developing crater in the center of the room. "I've never seen a Pokémon with this much energy... and he was only born a minute ago!"

  He lunged at Drilbur, but it zipped away too fast. It darted up onto his desk, knocking over a lamp with a crash.

  "Drilbur, stop it!" Ben pleaded.

  No use. The little guy was far too excited to listen.

  Mike jogged off to the cafeteria to grab some Pokéfood. When he returned, Drilbur had knocked over a stack of books, burrowed halfway into the rug, and was now enthusiastically trying to tunnel beneath Ben’s bed.

  "Drilbur, dril!" it shouted, as if proud of its mess.

  "This little guy's a handful," Mike said, holding out the Pokéfood. "You sure you're ready for all this?"

  Ben finally scooped up the energetic Pokémon, sighing as he looked around at the absolute disaster that used to be his room.

  "Yeah," he said, giving a tired but proud smile.

  "But he's mine now—so I guess I better figure it out."