Mewtwo

The morning sun bathed Pallet Town in warm light as a young trainer took their first steps onto Route 1. Unlike others before them, they had no Pokémon of their own—only a handful of pokéballs and a task from Professor Oak: catch your very first Pokémon. Their heart pounded with excitement as they followed the dirt path, eyes scanning the tall grass. A Pidgey. A Rattata. Anything would do. They just needed to prove themselves. The farther they walked, the quieter the route became. Not silent—just muted. The wind moved through the trees. Pokémon cries echoed faintly in the distance. Everything appeared exactly as it should. Still… something felt different. The trainer stopped. For a moment, they had the strange impression of being observed—not in a threatening way, but as if someone, or something, were waiting to see what they would do next. The feeling vanished as quickly as it came, leaving no trace behind. They shook it off. Probably nerves. A flash of movement caught their eye—high in the trees, gone before it could be focused on. A trick of the light. A wild Pokémon. Or nothing at all. The trainer tightened their grip on a pokéball.