To researchers like Professor Sycamore and his colleagues, a Froakie gifted to a rookie Trainer was nothing more than a standard-issue starter—one of the many Pokémon mass-bred and regulated by the Pokémon League's uniform distribution system.
But Ash knew better.
The Froakie from the original timeline—the one destined to become his partner—had been a special existence, touched by Kalos' fate itself. Born with an extraordinary will, it had longed for strength from the very start, fiercely proud and independent.
It had already rejected multiple rookie Trainers, walking away mid-battle when it deemed them unworthy. No matter how much they pleaded, that Froakie refused to obey.
It wasn't arrogance—it was instinct.
A Pokémon that strong, that aware of its own potential, could only follow someone who shared the same burning conviction.
In the end, it recognized Ash—the Ash—and chose to fight by his side.
That was the difference.
Pokémon might vary by species, but just like humans, most were ordinary. Out of the countless creatures in the world, only a few were truly remarkable.
Ordinary Trainers often chose based on species or base stats, then talent, then personality—if they cared at all.
But Ash? He was the opposite.
To him, Pokémon weren't tools of battle; they were friends, partners—family.
And now that he possessed the Viridian Power, the blessing that could purify and enhance a Pokémon's potential, he could raise any Pokémon's talent beyond its limits.
That meant his criteria had changed.
Strength and species no longer mattered—only spirit did.
If a Pokémon lacked courage, ambition, or heart, it simply wasn't worthy of being by his side.
He smirked slightly. "If I'm going to entrust my back to them, then they'd better be someone I can rely on completely."
After all, not every Pokémon could be trusted to guard the back of a true Trainer.
Not every Pokémon could protect him.
Three days remained before the Pokémon Summer Camp officially began.
There was no point overthinking now—what mattered was preparing for tomorrow.
Tomorrow morning, the group of Kalos students would finally arrive in Pallet Town, and all the local campers—including him—were expected to go to the outskirts of town to greet them.
Determined not to live up to his predecessor's infamously lazy reputation, Ash decided to be responsible for once.
He didn't even touch the TV that night.
("Please, I'm a guy from the 21st century," he thought, rolling his eyes. "Who still watches television when you've got the internet?")
Instead, he powered on the chunky desktop computer on his study desk and started researching everything he could find about this year's Summer Camp.
Because it was a joint event between Kanto and Kalos, the League's official website and every major news portal were buzzing with coverage.
He scrolled through article after article.
The Kanto students had already arrived safely in Lumiose City earlier that afternoon, while the Kalos delegation had landed at Saffron International Airport around 4 PM.
From there, the Kalos group boarded a League-chartered luxury bus headed toward Viridian City, escorted the entire way by Officer Jennys on motorbikes and a League security convoy.
Ash couldn't help but whistle softly. "Man, they're treating this like a presidential summit."
He wasn't wrong.
While the Summer Camp was technically a youth event, behind the scenes it was a symbol—a joint initiative representing cultural and economic cooperation between two major regions.
That meant politics were involved. And where politics went, media followed.
Every news outlet wanted a piece of the story.
Ash, of course, wasn't interested in politics. What he was interested in was whether any of those reports had pictures—specifically, pictures of a certain girl from Kalos.
He clicked every article with attached photos, hoping to catch a glimpse of her.
Serena.
But no matter how many images he opened, he couldn't find her face.
He chuckled softly to himself. "Yeah… she's probably still shy at this age. The Serena I know wouldn't have stood anywhere near a camera."
No disappointment. Only anticipation.
If anything, the mystery made him even more eager for tomorrow.
After browsing through dozens of pages, he realized the League had done a good job hiding this year's competition details.
No matter where he looked, none of the official sites mentioned what challenges or contests the campers would face.
"Huh. Keeping it secret this time, are they?" he muttered, tapping his chin.
But Ash wasn't the kind to give up easily.
He dug deeper, opening archives of previous camps and studying their schedules, analyzing the events and patterns. By the end of it, he had a rough idea of what might happen.
Without realizing it, over an hour had passed.
"Coo-coo… coo-coo…"
The Pidgey-shaped alarm clock sitting on his nightstand started chirping softly—a reminder that it was time for bed.
He glanced at the clock. Seven hours until morning. Perfect.
Because he had awakened his psychic abilities earlier that day and had already meditated once, it would be dangerous to push his limits again tonight.
Instead, he set the Pidgey alarm for 7 AM sharp. No chances of oversleeping.
"Tomorrow," he whispered, smiling as he crawled under his blanket, "everything begins."
Outside, the night wind whispered through the quiet streets of Pallet Town. Crickets chirped softly, and the stars blinked lazily overhead.
Peaceful. Calm.
Until—
Morning came.
…
The window creaked as the dawn breeze drifted in.
On the bedside table, the Pidgey alarm clock chirped dutifully.
"Coo-coo… coo-coo…"
Then louder.
"Coo-coo! Coo-coo! Coo—"
"Ugh… shut up already…" Ash mumbled sleepily, burying his head deeper into the pillow.
The alarm persisted.
"Coo-coo! Coo—"
"Alright, Pikachu—use Thunderbolt!"
With a sudden burst of movement, Ash shot up, grabbed the Pidgey-shaped clock like a Poké Ball, and hurled it across the room.
"BANG!"
The poor alarm clock hit the floor and split in two. The mechanical Pidgey dangled from a spring, swaying back and forth like a defeated Metapod.
Ash blinked once… then collapsed back onto his bed, pulling the blanket over his head.
Within seconds, the future Pokémon Master was sound asleep again—completely unaware that his first meeting with destiny was now in jeopardy.
The morning sunlight crept across the room, glinting off the shattered Pidgey clock.
It chirped one last faint "coo…" before going silent forever.
…
…