Professor Oak's warm smile filled the room as he picked up one of the three Pokéballs. "Young Ash, the honor I feel at this moment is beyond words. You are the first trainer to be deemed a Tier 10 talent in Kanto's history," he said, his voice tinged with pride.

Peter nodded, feeling the weight of the expectation resting on his shoulders. "Choose wisely," Oak encouraged, releasing the three Pokémon.

First was Scizor, a stunning, metallic red insectoid Pokémon. Its formidable appearance, with large pincers and a robust exoskeleton, was undeniably impressive.

Next was Abra, a bipedal Pokémon with a serene, closed-eye expression. Its yellow fur and calm demeanor exuded a sense of tranquility.

Finally, there was Houndour. The dark canine Pokémon was on high alert, its snarl a clear warning.

Peter extended his hand towards it, only to be met with a warning growl.

"Nope," he thought immediately, withdrawing his hand.

But as he looked into Scizor's eyes, he saw something that gave him pause. It was a look of pride, a certain aloofness that felt all too familiar to Peter. He recognized that expression; it was the same look he had seen in the eyes of his peers back on Earth, those who always seemed to be a step ahead, always seemed more accomplished, more confident.

To Peter, Scizor's gaze felt like a reminder of his own insecurities. He had spent years feeling overshadowed, always comparing himself to others and finding himself wanting. Scizor's proud demeanor, while admirable, also echoed that sense of inadequacy he had long struggled with.

He couldn't shake the feeling that choosing Scizor would be like choosing to walk in the shadow of those peers once again, always striving but never quite feeling equal. It was a feeling he had hoped to leave behind in this new world, a feeling he didn't want to carry into his journey as a Pokémon trainer.

As Peter focused on Abra, he heard a voice in his head, "Hey, you got any pizza to share?"

Surprised, Peter responded, "You can talk?"

"Telepathically, actually," Abra replied with a dry tone.

"And you're avoiding my question."

Peter chuckled. "Sorry, no pizza on me. But, uh, nice to meet you?"

"Likewise. I'm the one with the brains here, clearly," Abra said dryly. "So, choosing a starter? Tough choice, huh?"

"Yeah," Peter agreed, "Scizor's cool, but a bit too... prideful for me."

"Oh, Scizor," Abra interjected. "He thinks he's the sharpest tool in the shed. But we all know he's just a pair of fancy scissors."

Peter chuckled. "And Houndour?"

"More bark than bite, if you ask me. He tries to act tough, but he's really a softie inside. Don't tell him I said that."

"I won't," Peter promised, smiling. "So, you're the calm and collected type?"

"More like laid back and lazy," Abra corrected. "But I've got a sharp mind. And I can teleport, which is pretty cool."

"Yeah, teleporting does sound cool," Peter said, intrigued.

"Just don't expect me to teleport you to a pizza place. I'm not a delivery service," Abra deadpanned.

Peter chuckled. "Fair enough. But you seem like a good partner."

Stolen novel; please report.

"I'm the best choice here, obviously," Abra stated matter-of-factly. "I mean, who wouldn't want a telepathic, teleporting Pokémon?"

"You've got a point," Peter agreed, amused by Abra's dry humor. "I think we'll make a great team."

"Just remember, I'm the brains of this operation," Abra reminded him.

"Got it. The brains and the humor," Peter said, extending his hand to Abra. "Let's do this."

Abra floated gently onto his hand, closing its eyes as if in agreement.

"An amazing choice, young man," he praised, clapping Asher on the back with enough enthusiasm to almost send him face-first into the ground.

"That's some keen insight you've got there. Abras can be a handful, what with all their psychic shenanigans and their annoying habit of vanishing into thin air. But," and here Oak paused for dramatic effect, "once you get past their tricks, they turn into the best partners you could ask for. Loyal, smart, and they can read your mind—literally!"

Abra, floating beside Peter, chimed in telepathically, "And don't forget incredibly good-looking."

Peter couldn't help but smile, feeling a surprising sense of comfort around Abra. It was as if there was an invisible string tying them together, creating an odd but strong bond.

"Your gay?" Abra suddenly asked, its telepathic voice echoing in Peter's mind.

Before Peter could even begin to process the question, Abra corrected itself, "Wait, that doesn't work, I am Pokémon."

Then, without missing a beat, Abra tried again.

"Are you a homosexual pokephile?" The dryness in Abra's telepathic tone was so profound, Peter couldn't for the life of him figure out if the Pokémon was trying to pull his leg.

"Is it too late to change starters?" Peter wondered silently, half-expecting no answer.

"Nope," Abra responded immediately.

Peter, still trying to wrap his head around the whole telepathy thing with Abra, assumed this must be a regular occurrence. After all, Professor Oak hadn't made a big deal about it, so Peter figured it was just one of those Pokémon abilities everyone knew about.

However, what Peter didn't know was that humans talking to Pokémon, telepathically or otherwise, was far from normal. In fact, it was downright unheard of. This unique connection he had with Abra wasn't something every trainer experienced. It was special, a rare phenomenon that even the most seasoned Pokémon experts would find astonishing.

Meanwhile, to everyone else in the room, Peter simply looked like he was sharing a quiet moment with his new Pokémon partner. They saw him smiling at Abra, which they took as the usual reaction of a trainer bonding with their starter Pokémon. Little did they know, Peter and Abra were actually having a full-blown telepathic conversation.

As these thoughts danced through Peter's head, Professor Oak's expression shifted.

"Now, you might be wondering why I called your mother here today," he said as both Delia and Peter nodded.

The professor walked over to the window and drew back the curtains.

Outside, news vans with large satellite dishes and logos of various news channels were pulling up.

Reporters and camera crews were rushing out, setting up equipment hurriedly.

"Young man, you are the first Tier 10 trainer in Kanto's history. An interview with you would be international news," Professor Oak explained.

Peter took a deep breath, understanding the magnitude of the situation.

"So, I called your mother because you have two choices," the professor continued.

"My granddaughter and grandson can escort you out the back, and you can go home with your mother without the media prying into your life. Or you can embrace this newfound fame and give that interview. The choice is yours."

Delia placed her hand on Peter's shoulder, her eyes filled with motherly concern. "Remember this, son, whatever you choose, Mama will support you, okay?"

Peter smiled at her, grateful for her support.

Peter looked at Abra, seeking its opinion. "What do you think we should do, Abra? Face the media or sneak out the back?"

Abra's telepathic voice echoed in his head, dry as ever.

"Frankly, I'd rather not be on TV. I'm not camera-ready. Haven't done my hair."

Peter snorted.

"You are bald."

"Can't be bald if you don't have hair. Plus, I don't fancy being a celebrity. Too much work and not many hookers."

Peter ignored Abra's comment.

"I always wanted to be famous, though."

Abra snorted.

"They'll exploit you. Next thing you know, they'll say I chose you because of your stunning good looks."

Peter raised an eyebrow.

"Aren't they right, though?"

"Please, you're not that bad," Abra deadpanned. "But seriously, think about it. Do you want this kind of attention?"

Peter sighed.

"N-Not really."

"Then it's settled," Abra said.

"Y-Yeah."

Peter met Professor Oak's understanding gaze.

"I'll choose to hide," he said firmly.

Professor Oak nodded approvingly.

"Daisy and Gary will take you out the back. I'll handle the reporters," he assured them.

"Thank you, Professor," Peter said, feeling a wave of relief.

Delia bowed slightly in gratitude.

Daisy gestured for them to follow her, leading the way to a discreet exit.

As they walked, Peter noticed Gary's intense stare.

His brows were furrowed, his eyes fixed on Peter with a mix of curiosity and something akin to rivalry.

Peter couldn't help but wonder, "What's his problem?"

Abra replied telepathically, "Probably jealous. You just snagged the top spot and all the glory. Plus, you have me. Who wouldn't be envious?"