"Alright, team. Let's see what Mom and Dad think when we get home."
Ditto wiggled on my shoulders, making a sound that could've meant agreement or sarcastic disbelief. Hard to tell with it sometimes. Either way, I smiled and stepped through the front gate of our estate.
Now, before you get the wrong idea, I wasn't some spoiled kid sitting on a mountain of Poké Dollars eating Poké Puffs for breakfast. My parents worked hard—really hard. They built The King's Company Shipping and Manufacturing from scratch, back when they were just two ambitious young trainers who got tired of losing tournaments and decided to try capitalism instead.
Their slogan still made me cringe every time I heard it:"We bring you what you need!"Catchy? Maybe. Subtle? Not even close.
The thing is, they actually meant it. They were responsible for about a third of the world's Poké Goods distribution—everything from Poké Balls and potion shipments to high-grade alloys used in building PokéTech and machinery for the bigger cities. If something could be built, shipped, or powered, my parents' company probably had a hand in it.
The front doors slid open automatically, greeting me with the familiar chime of the entry scanner. Our home wasn't a mansion, exactly—it was more like a compact museum for every gadget and prototype my parents had ever approved for production. The floors shimmered with synthetic marble, the lights hummed with low energy from a solar Pokémon core generator, and a pair of floating Rotom units zipped by carrying parcels wrapped in The King's Company logo tape.
"Welcome home, Cyrus," a friendly voice chimed. Our home AI, PoryHome Unit K-01, hovered from the hallway in a shimmering holographic projection shaped vaguely like a Porygon-Z. "Your parents are in the workshop."
"Thanks, K-01," I said, tossing my backpack—Ditto included—onto the couch. Ditto immediately shifted into pillow form, giving me a thumbs-up blob before deflating dramatically. Lazy thing.
I walked toward the workshop, the smell of solder, metal, and fresh oil filling the air. There, amidst a mess of schematics, wires, and PokéTech parts, were Joseph Von King and Dr. Maren Rei-King, my parents.
My dad looked like he could still play professional sports if he wanted to. Broad-shouldered, blonde hair slicked back, eyes as blue as the sea—he was one of those people who filled up a room the moment he entered. His white shirt was half-unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up, muscles flexing as he lifted what looked like a prototype Poké Ball casing.
"Hey, sport!" he called out, spotting me instantly. "How was the field trip? Didn't get eaten by a Drifloon, I hope?"
"Not this time," I said dryly. "Though I did almost get chased by one. So… minor improvement."
He laughed—a deep, booming sound that made the workshop seem smaller. "That's my boy! You attract trouble like it's a hobby."
"Genetic gift from you, I guess," I shot back, smirking.
Mom looked up from her workstation, where she was sketching a design that looked suspiciously like a hybrid of a Poké Ball and an espresso machine. Her long black hair was tied into a neat braid, her movements elegant even in chaos. "Cyrus, welcome home," she said, standing to give me a hug. "You smell like smoke. And dirt."
"Yeah, I made a new friend," I said, pulling out Charcadet's Poké Ball.
Both of them paused.
"Already?" Dad asked, raising an eyebrow. "You caught one on your own?"
"Technically, yeah," I said. "It kinda… chose me, actually. Long story."
Mom's eyes softened. "Then it must have seen something special in you."
I released Charcadet, who appeared in a flash of light, flames flickering softly. It blinked at my parents, cautious but curious.
Dad whistled. "Charcadet, huh? That's a strong partner. And from the ruins outside Noctopolis, I assume?"
"Yeah," I said, scratching my neck. "The other students found fossil fragments and old Poké Balls. I found… him."
Charcadet puffed its chest a little at the attention, a faint ember flickering in pride.
We talked for a while about the field trip—how the ruins were tied to ancient ghost energy, how the school almost lost half its students to a mischievous Haunter, and how Ditto nearly scared the bus driver to death by turning into his reflection mid-drive. Dad laughed at that one until tears formed.
But then the conversation shifted, as it always did when Dad got in his "teaching" mood.
"So," he began, wiping his hands on a towel. "Now that you've got your first real partner, you're starting to see it, aren't you?"
"See what?"
He smiled knowingly. "That the world's a lot bigger than those little maps in the PokéDex."
I frowned. "You mean the regions? There's what, ten of them? Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, Sinnoh, Unova, Kalos, Galar, Paldea, Hisui, and—"
Mom snorted softly. "Oh, sweetie. That's what the Poké League Alliance wants everyone to think."
Dad chuckled, leaning back against the counter. "The truth is, the world isn't just bigger—it's practically endless. You know those island chains south of the Paldean Rim?"
"Yeah, near the Azure Current. The game calls them the Obsidian Isles, right?"
"Right. Well, those aren't just tiny islands, Cyrus. Each one of those 'islands' is about three times the size of Earth's continents. Some are home to Pokémon we've never documented. Others are private territories—guild-controlled, or ruled by the Legacy League champions. You could live your whole life exploring one and never see all of it."
I blinked, stunned. "Wait. You're telling me there's way more than ten regions?"
Mom smiled, eyes sparkling. "Oh, honey. There are hundreds."
My jaw dropped. "Hundreds?!"
Dad shrugged. "That's what happens when you mix magic and evolution. The world keeps expanding, sometimes literally. It's like the planet wants to keep making room for new Pokémon."
I stared at them, feeling my head spin. "That's… insane. I mean, I knew there were unexplored areas, but I didn't think—"
"That's how we found out too," Dad said, cutting me off with a grin. "Our trade routes took us far beyond the League maps. One day you're delivering parts to Galar, and the next, you're on an island the size of Kalos that no one's ever heard of, where the local Pokémon can manipulate time just by sneezing."
"...Seriously?"
He grinned. "Okay, maybe not sneezing. But yeah, seriously."
I slumped into a chair, rubbing my temples. "So basically, everything I thought I knew about the world is wrong."
Mom laughed softly. "Welcome to adulthood."
After a while, the conversation turned lighter again. Dad started telling embarrassing stories about his early training days—like the time he tried to wrestle a Machoke for fun and ended up in a full-body cast. Mom rolled her eyes and added how he once forgot to feed his first Growlithe for three days because he was "testing a prototype food capsule."
Charcadet seemed fascinated, sitting cross-legged by the workbench, flames gently illuminating its mask-like eyes. Ditto, of course, had turned into a tiny Joseph-shaped blob flexing dramatically in the corner. Mom giggled. "You know, Ditto's a bit too accurate with your dad's posture."
"I'll take that as a compliment," Dad said proudly.
I couldn't help but laugh. This—this was home. The noise, the laughter, the stories, the faint hum of machines and magic coexisting.
Even though the world outside was massive and unpredictable, here it all felt balanced. Grounded. Real.
Later that night, I sat by my window, looking out over Noctopolis. The skyline glowed faintly purple under the influence of ghost energy, the towers flickering with spectral lights that danced in patterns no human fully understood. Occasionally, a Mismagius or Chandelure floated across the sky, illuminating the fog in eerie blues and greens.
Charcadet sat beside me, gazing out as well. Its flame reflected in the glass, small but steady.
"Crazy day, huh?" I murmured. "You picked one heck of a partner."
It looked at me, expression unreadable. Then it nodded once, like it agreed.
Ditto wriggled nearby in pillow form, half-asleep but keeping one lazy eye open.
"Don't get too comfortable, you two," I said softly. "If Dad's right, the world's way bigger than I ever imagined. That means there's a lot out there to see. A lot to learn."
I leaned back, hands behind my head.
"Guess we've got our work cut out for us, huh?"
The room was silent for a long moment. Then Charcadet's flame pulsed brightly once, as if in answer. Ditto's surface rippled in a slow, approving wave.
Somewhere outside, a Gengar's laugh echoed faintly through the fog.
I smiled. "Yeah… I thought so."