A groan escaped Ethan's lips as he stirred. A staggering ache throbbed in his skull, a relentless echo threatening to pull him back into the abyss of unconsciousness. His body felt like lead, each muscle protesting with a dull ache as he struggled to open his eyes.
Where was he? The sterile hum of his research lab was replaced by the unfamiliar symphony of the forest: the shrill squawks of unseen birds and the rustle of movement nearby. Had there been an accident? Had his experiment gone wrong? Something warm and sticky trickled down his forehead. Reaching up with a trembling hand, he recoiled – it was blood, and his hand… it was smaller, skinnier, the hand of a child.
Panic surged through him. Did he regress? Was he somehow in the body of a kid? His mind reeled, his memories fragmented and conflicting. The last thing he remembered was the sterile hum of machinery in his state-of-the-art research lab, the very place where he delved into the mysteries of dark matter, dark energy and quantum physics, where his latest venture had been to uncover the secrets of the soul by dissecting some desperate folks that no one will miss. He was studying the energy released during their death and his latest experiment was to try and confine this energy. Then there was some blaring noise, a blinding flash, and…nothing.
A sudden squawk shattered Ethan's spiraling thoughts, yanking his focus to the present. His eyes snapped upward, locking onto a brown-feathered bird perched on a low-hanging branch. It was larger than he had expected, perhaps the size of a hawk, with sharp, predatory eyes and wickedly curved talons. The creature was tearing into a wriggling green caterpillar pinned beneath its claws. A Pidgeotto devouring a Caterpie. Ethan's breath hitched. Pokémon… they were real? Not the adorable, sanitized versions from his childhood cartoons, but visceral, wild predators that killed with precision and efficiency. The stark brutality of it sent a chill racing down his spine.
Ethan had never been the athletic type. Research, not running , was his forte. But a primal instinct for survival screamed at him to move. That Pidgeotto was almost finished, and he knew with chilling certainty, he could be its next meal.
Scourging through the fragmented memories of the child to find a way out of this jungle, memories flickered through the haze –men with sharp eyes and even sharper smiles, taking him and the other older children, promising a better future from the orphanage. Their journey had led them here into the depths of this forest at night. Then, the chaos – the angry Spearow flock, the men shouting, releasing their Pokemon to fend off the angry birds and guiding the children away. But Ethan had stumbled in the darkness, and then…. a searing pain behind his head then blackness. His instincts screamed at him that those men had been up to no good. Did that mean this child, this other him, had been an unwitting pawn in some nefarious scheme?
Survival. That was the only thought that mattered now. He pushed himself to his feet, legs shaky and weak. Despite his injuries, instinct guided him through the dense undergrowth. The path the men and children had taken was barely visible, marked by broken leaves and disturbed ferns. He had to get to the road, the familiar Kanto Route-1 he knew from a different life.
The scientist within him observed his surroundings, analyzing every detail – the snap of a twig, the rustle of unseen creatures. The forest pulsed with life, with danger. Every sound made him jump, heart hammering in his chest.
Hours blurred together as he sneaked through the forest. Pain gnawed at him with every step, and thirst made his tongue feel like sandpaper. Hunger was a distant, gnawing worry – more immediate was keeping his injured body upright and moving. There was something else too, lurking beneath the panic. Excitement. Yes, terror gripped him, yet a part of him recognized this strange world for what it was – a grand experiment, the scientific puzzle of a lifetime laid out at his feet.
A world where mighty dragons were stored in miniature balls, where electric rodents could summon lightning strikes, and turtles could fire cannons from their shells. What happened to the laws of physics he knew? Did Einstein and Newton's discoveries hold no weight in this universe? On what principles did this world operate? It was an enigma, a mystery begging to be unraveled. If he was good at anything, it was uncovering mysteries. A shiver of anticipation ran down his spine as he envisioned his future in this Pokemon world.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, he finally stumbled out of the dense trees. Relief washed over him. Route 1. The dirt path, a stark contrast to the perilous forest, felt like a luxurious highway in comparison. He had escaped the clutches of the dark woods, but his journey had just begun.