"I'm digging in!"
The declaration wasn't the high-pitched squeal of a boy, but a hunger for the road that resonated in Ash's chest. He sat at the dining table, the morning sun streaming through the windows of the Pallet Town home, and began to systematically dismantle the breakfast Delia had prepared. Across from him, Pikachu mimicked the motion with identical fervor, his small paws working through a bowl of high-grade Pokémon food with rhythmic efficiency.
Delia sat opposite them, her chin resting in her hand as she watched the pair with a soft, knowing smile. "Slow down, you two. The ferry to Sinnoh won't leave without you."
Despite her words, she was already piling more eggs and toast onto Ash's plate. He looked up, catching her eye. "Thanks, Mom. After this, I'm heading to the Lab. I need to handle some transfers before I set off."
The word 'Mom' felt natural, grounded in the shared history of this body and the deep-seated respect Hiroshi had always felt for the woman who raised a champion alone. Delia nodded, her eyes lingering on her son. There was something different about him today—a certain steel in his gaze that hadn't been there when he'd moped home after his loss to Gary the day before.
"Be careful on the way," she called out as Ash stepped through the door, Pikachu already a permanent fixture on his shoulder.
"I will," Ash replied, his voice level. He didn't run like a child; he walked with a purpose, his stride long and measured.
The Pallet Town breeze was cool, carrying the scent of salt and blooming Apricorns. Ash acknowledged the greetings of the townspeople with a curt, polite nod, his mind already drifting to the tactical restructuring of his roster.
The red roof and towering windmill of the Oak Laboratory soon loomed over the horizon. He pushed through the heavy oak doors, the sterile, familiar scent of high-end research equipment hitting him instantly.
"Ah, Ash! Back so soon?" Professor Oak emerged from a side office, adjusting his lab coat. The doyen of Pokémon research looked exactly as he did in the memories—grandfatherly, yet possessing an intellect that could dismantle a battle strategy in seconds.
"Professor," Ash greeted him, his tone professional. "I need access to the transfer system and the ranch. I'm re-evaluating my rotation before I head to Sinnoh."
Oak's eyebrows shot up. "Rotation? That's a sophisticated approach, Ash. Usually, you're halfway to a new region with nothing but Pikachu before you think about your old friends."
"I'm done leaving my best assets in the stable, Professor," Ash said.
They moved to the sprawling grassland behind the lab—a private ecological preserve that housed the heart of Ash's journey. As they stepped onto the lush green, a small, familiar shadow bounded forward.
"Bulba!"
The dual-type Grass/Poison Pokémon skidded to a stop, its red eyes wide with delight. The bulb on its back pulsed with a healthy, vibrant green.
"Good to see you, Bulbasaur," Ash said, kneeling. He didn't just pet the Pokémon; he checked the firmness of the vine-whip notches on its sides. "You've been keeping the peace around here, haven't you?"
Bulbasaur let out a proud cry, bumping its head against Ash's hand.
"Do me a favor," Ash said, his voice dropping into a command tone. "Signal a gathering. I need to see everyone."
Bulbasaur nodded. It planted its feet, the bulb on its back drinking in the morning sun. A moment later, a brilliant sphere of compressed light shot into the sky—a Solar Beam modified into a flare. It detonated in a harmless, shimmering burst of white energy.
The response was immediate.
The ground began to tremble. From the forest line, the lake, and the high ridges, the echoes of Ash's history returned to him.
A yellow blur struck him first. Bayleef didn't just greet him; she tackled him with the weight of a professional athlete, her scythe-like leaf glowing with affection. Ash braced himself, rolling with the impact.
"Easy, Bayleef. You've been working on your Tackle, I see."
Behind her, the others fell into line. Sceptile leaned against a nearby tree, a twig clamped between its jaws, its eyes coolly assessing its trainer. Swellow and the shiny Noctowl circled overhead, their wings cutting the air with predatory grace. The heavy hitters followed—Snorlax's thunderous footsteps, the metallic clatter of Kingler, and the ominous, toxic scent of Muk.
From the Johto and Hoenn campaigns, they gathered: Cyndaquil, Totodile, Donphan, Corphish, Torkoal, and the crystalline form of Glalie. Even the mischievous Aipom swung down from a branch, aiming for Ash's hat, only to find Ash catching its wrist mid-air without even looking.
"Not today, Aipom," Ash said, a small smirk playing on his lips.
As a herd of Tauros thundered past in the distance, Ash closed his eyes for a second, activating the internal 'Appraisal' function of his Bag System.
[System Note: Internal Analysis Active]
Sceptile: Elite Tier. Specialized in Speed/Special Attack. Requires: Sceptilite.
Heracross: High Tier. Physical Powerhouse. Requires: Heracronite.
Donphan: Tank/Rapid Spinner.
Bayleef: Support/Control. Needs evolutionary stimulus?
He opened his eyes. The data confirmed what his veteran instincts already knew. His Pokémon were strong, but they were unpolished. They had been "reset" by the narrative too many times.
"Professor," Ash called out over the din of his cheering team. "I'm taking five with me. But before I leave for Sinnoh, I have one stop to make."
Oak walked over, looking at the assembled power of Ash's journey. "A stop? Where?"
Ash looked toward the distant treeline of the Viridian Forest. "I made a promise years ago to a friend. I told him I'd come back once the woods were safe. It's been far too long."
He looked at the empty slot in his mental roster. The "King of the Skies" was still out there, protecting his flock, waiting for a trainer who had finally grown enough to lead him.
"I'm going to get my Pidgeot."