Far from the wonders of the world, an impossible event was taking place.

It occurred in a dark alleyway cloaked in predawn stillness, a forgotten crevice between towering buildings that seemed to scrape the sky. Discarded remnants of city life–crushed cans, torn cardboard, and the occasional shattered phone–lay scattered across the pavement.

Amidst this urban debris, a figure stirred. Slumped upon a brick wall, a child awoke with a start, his breath hitching in his throat as awareness sluggishly seeped into his consciousness. His eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dim flickering light of a distant street lamp.

Every breath he took seemed to dredge up new layers of filth and despair in the air, a stark contrast to the impossible memories that lingered on the fringes of his mind–memories of two entirely different lives.

He slowly lifted and stared at his open palm, struggling to grasp his circumstances. The voices of both lives were present in his mind, adding to his befuddlement.

"Who… am I?" He muttered to himself, his eyes somehow matching his confusion. His eyes functioned as windows to the soul, their color flashing between red and blue, representing the souls of his two lives.

For a moment, his pupils settled into a piercing, sky blue.

In one life, he was known as Nolan.

A man who died penniless and homeless on the streets. Unlike most people, he had a unique perspective on life. He was a risk-taker to his core, believing that if there was even a 0.01% chance for overwhelming success, one should always take it. Even if upon failure the outcome was worse than when you started, at least you could now say you took the chance.

At least, then, you knew in your heart it simply wasn't meant to be.

Despite having that mindset, his poverty wasn't a result of something harmful like excessive gambling. He'd become a successful content creator in college and made millions with hard work and an upbeat personality.

No, his poverty was the result of self-sacrifice.

Upon learning that he had a terminal illness, he saved up as much of his wealth as he could, and gave it all away without hesitation.

He died with a large smile on his face, having no regrets whatsoever.

The sky above suddenly shifted as the memories of Nolan's life came to an end. Dark clouds, pregnant with rain, gathered swiftly overhead, casting a shadow over the landscape. The air, thick with anticipation, prickled with the promise of impending downpour.

Like an unleashed torrent, the heavens opened. The raindrops were hesitant, gently caressing against his skin, cool and refreshing as they contrasted with the stifling dirt of the alleyway. They trickled down his face, tracing paths of stress across his cheeks.

The boy's eyes slowly dimmed from the optimistic sky blue to a murky blood crimson.

His current body was born with the name Caleb.

A boy whose life was drowned in paranoia and caution. Unlike Nolan, he took no risks when it came to living, seeking only survival. His parents had died at a young age, and he took to the streets with only his wits and a few Pokédollars to his name. Living alone as a street rat for years had forged him into a skittish boy with no friends; Not trusting anyone.

Despite having that darker mindset and unfortunate conditions, even he had a friend. A Pokémon that had taken a shine to him at some point, deciding on its own to protect him from those who tried to take advantage of him.

As a way to tie their relationship together, he even managed to steal a scuffed-up Pokeball for it.

However, upon learning that he could potentially be a Pokémon Trainer for money, Caleb didn't even try. He didn't have the necessary knowledge and deduced that putting in the effort wouldn't be worth it.

Caleb wasn't content with his life, but he didn't dare to endeavor for anything more than what he had.

The two souls were opposite in personality, but he somehow didn't feel like either one. His personality was a blend of both of them, both their faults and their virtues. He felt as enthusiastic and optimistic as Nolan, yet kept in check by the pragmatism and rationality of Caleb.

Gentle, yet firm. Compassionate, yet stoic. Ambitious, yet realistic.

Over and over, the boy's eyes swapped between red and blue as his mind slowly but surely swirled into a whirlpool of perplexity, trying to make sense of his identity. His body began to quiver as he did so, eyes flickering back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and–

Abruptly, his pupils swirled in color before settling into a calm violet.

"I… am they. We are one. Nolan has experience, knowledge, and charisma, but is painfully naive. Caleb is pragmatic, logical, and mature beyond his years, yet he lacks perspective and ambition.

"I am both. I am neither," As the culmination of both of their lives, he was both less and greater than either one. It was fitting, then, that he considered himself an entirely new being. "I will call myself… Caelan."

The people of this world wouldn't care what he called himself at the end of the day. He'd spent nearly five years as Caleb all on his own and not once did he catch a whiff of any authority figure searching for him.

He had no family, and he didn't have any human friends.

In the World of Pokémon, he was nobody. And thus, born from nothing, was Caelan.

With that decision made, the reality of his situation slowly dawned on him. He was a weak and penniless child with no connections and no way to make them. The only thing he 'owned' was a Pokémon that also required both food and water.

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And to top it all off, it was currently raining. The chilling coldness of the rain would weaken him even further, and he wouldn't be surprised if he became sick in the coming days.

'I will not live in the dirt like this any longer. He gritted his teeth at the thought, determination blooming in his heart. Caleb was sadly correct. Without the knowledge of how to accurately train a Pokémon, any attempts to be a Pokémon Trainer would've ended in disaster or disappointment.'

'I, however, am not Caleb.'

With the formal education that Nolan had, emboldened by his otherworldly knowledge of Pokémon, he had a shaky but decent enough foundation for being a below-average Pokémon Trainer.

It wasn't a great start–it wasn't even a good start–but it was a step in the right direction.

"I found him! Guys, he's over here!"

Abruptly, a shout rang out over the quiet drizzling of the rain, and entered the alleyway. It was followed by the sloshing of rushing footsteps.

Caelan grimaced as he pushed himself off the ground and staggered to his feet. The wet pavement underneath muddied his hands, which he quickly brushed off his pants. He squinted, watching as three figures took up the space of his only exit.

It was the third figure that he immediately recognized.

'Ah, right. I had almost forgotten about them…'

A short man with an ugly face, large eyes, and a tasteless bowl-cut. Another man was his opposite, a tall rotund man with a goatee and a bandage wrapped around his long bald head. Those two were irrelevant, yet they were still dangerous to a child like himself.

They were henchmen serving the man in the center.

A lanky narrow-eyed man with a large scar on his face that emanated an air of danger. Although he looked to be the weakest, Caelan knew the man's fighting skills were far greater than the common thug. His feral eyes looked down on Caelan as if he wanted to crush him under his boots.

He was the leader of a gang of fools, someone Caleb wanted to avoid at all costs. Although he had no Pokémon himself, the idiot was openly vying to become a part of the gang calling themselves the Kanto Pokémon Federation.

That was an imposing name for a bunch of gangsters, but what were gangsters if not prideful?

The man only decided to start chasing after him after someone leaked that he had a Pokémon. It was a secret Caleb desperately harbored to himself, but had become public knowledge when the Pokémon had disobeyed him and attacked someone who was bullying him.

He couldn't fault the Pokémon, as it was only protecting him, but it still caused problems.

For people with no Pokémon, the world considered them equal to savages who couldn't be helped. They were regarded as less than trash who contributed to nothing, as Pokémon were relevant in the large majority of career paths.

Even local cashiers had Pokémon in case someone tried to rob them.

Sadly, trying to capture a Pokémon without a Pokémon of your own was a death sentence.

Most people were either gifted a Pokémon by their parents or were given one after graduating from Pokémon School.

It was similar to getting a job in Nolan's world. Without work experience, you couldn't get a good job, yet you needed a good job to have relevant work experience. The only way out was either having connections, nepotism, or a formal education.

Without any of those, you were stuck in this same vicious cycle of helplessness.

His own Pokémon was a lucky encounter that he didn't seek out. The Pokémon herself had stuck to him despite Caleb's various protests, and they'd been friends ever since.

He had no idea what she saw in him, but he was secretly flattered anyway.

The scarred man narrowed his eyes before taking a step toward him. Caelan quickly reached into his pocket and retrieved the scratched-up Pokeball, holding it out as a warning. The two henchmen paused, hesitation clear on their faces as they stood at a standstill.

There was no hesitation on the leader's face, however. Only a cruel smile grew when he pulled the ball out.

"Just hand over the ball. Your Pokémon doesn't have the strength to hurt an adult, much less three," The man's voice was gruff and harsh and his eyes shined with greed. If Caelan wasn't watching intently, he would've missed the flicker of hesitation that showed on his face. "If you bring it out, you'll only anger me and get both of you hurt."

With that said, he pulled out a switchblade from his back pocket and flicked it open, trying to appear intimidating.

Caelan didn't bother responding to the idiot in front of him and simply pressed the button on the Pokeball. With a red light, the Pokémon materialized onto the ground.

A small rodent-like creature stood, its purple fur slowly becoming damp from the drizzling rain. Its large, round ears with pink insides and long whiskers accentuated its features, making the cream-colored face and underside pop in contrast. Its tail was long and thin, coiled up tightly as it readied itself for battle.

And not one person who recognized this creature could forget the sharp incisors large enough to gnaw through anything.

It was Rattata–the Mouse Pokémon.

Although it was a simple and weak Pokémon, it was still a Pokémon. No amount of boasting could convince Caelan that this lanky man had the power to subdue it with force alone. Even if one was skillful, skill alone could not bridge the gap between an ant and a rhino.

"I'll give you one chance," Caelan spoke confidently, ignoring his scratchy voice. The smile dropped on the man's face like a stone in water. "Just walk away and I'll forget this ever happened."

Hearing him speak so coldly, Rattata froze and slowly turned to look at Caelan.

Their eyes met, and Caelan almost winced when he watched Rattata stumble in shock. It was obvious what she was so confused about, as he too would've been bewildered if his best friend suddenly had a new eye color.

And a new temperament. And manner of speech.

…He was going to have to talk with Rattata about this, later.

"Don't you see? Even your Pokémon is nervous when confronted with three opponents at once," Seeing their small interaction, the gang leader's smile came back with a vengeance. He was grasping at straws to find a way to intimidate him.

Then the man took another step.

Caleb hadn't taught Rattata any techniques in the past, simply relying on her for companionship. Whenever a fight broke out, he would hide while Rattata followed its battling instincts.

In hindsight, this was a momentous occasion, as it was the first time the two ever stood together in battle.

So it was obvious that Caelan's first command to his Pokémon wasn't a real move.

"Kill," He intoned callously.

Rattata's eyes narrowed into slits as it refocused on the man. It crouched low, muscles tensed, and then sprang forward in a blur of purple fur.

The small rodent hurtled through the air, its body emanating a mysterious white energy.

–Thud–

The impact was swift and forceful, the leader's eyes rolled into his head as his movement was abruptly cut off. He was propelled backward, his limp body hitting the ground with a heavy thump, arms splayed out.

It was a textbook Tackle attack, even if Rattata didn't know the name of the move.

Rattata used the momentum of the attack to jump in front of Caelan once again, glaring protectively at the other two. She panted slightly, its small chest heaving with a light exertion.

Instead of testing the waters, however, the remaining two men looked at the knocked-out leader with wide eyes.

Their leader wasn't dead, but these two were idiots who believed Pokémon were all-powerful. The man wasn't incorrect, people could fight back against Pokémon, but it would have to be an absurdly strong human versus a laughably weak Pokémon.

In any case, their fear worked well for him.

"Don't run," Caelan's cold voice cut through the rain and passed over the alleyway. The two flinched as if just noticing he was there. "I warned you. All you had to do was walk away."

Dread flashed through their expressions before one of the men opened his quivering mouth. "P-please don't kill us. I mean, kid, we were just following order-"

"Didn't ask," Caelan made sure to let a little irritation leak into his voice, urging them to hurry up. "Now, drop everything you have and you can live."

Despite being an owned Pokémon, Rattata was as out of shape as other wild Pokémon.

And since Rattata was a Pokémon that roamed in packs, they didn't have much stamina individually if they weren't properly trained.

If the leader woke up? She wouldn't have the energy to beat all of them up again…

But they didn't need to know that.