Orion's Point of View
I'm Two years old now.
The words still felt strange in my head, even after waking up to Mom's excited "Happy Birthday, my little cub!" an hour ago. Two years on Terra meant something completely different than it had on Earth. My body had already shot up to look like a five-year-old from earth, and from what the system told me, I would stay looking like this for the next five and a half years while my mind continued maturing on the inside. It was as a strange concept, but I was not complaining. Not today anyway.
Today, I was standing in front of the small mirror in my room, examining my reflection with a critical eye. My hair had grown faster than anything else on my body over the past ten months, and it now hung past my shoulders in wild waves of black and purple. No matter how often Mom brushed it, the moment she turned around, it would tangle itself back into its preferred state of controlled chaos. I had learned to manage it myself recently, pulling it back into a low ponytail when I needed it out of my way, but today I left it loose. It felt right for whatever Mom had planned.
I tugged at the hem of my shirt, the fabric light and smooth against my skin. It was bright—yellow across the front with black sleeves—and right in the center was a huge Pyroar, its fiery mane blazing in reds and oranges like it was about to roar to life.
Mom had picked it out for me, of course. Said it "fit my spirit." I didn't argue—it actually looked really cool.
My shorts matched too—black with gold lining along the edges, soft enough to move in easily. There was even a smaller Pyroar printed on one leg, like a little partner following the bigger one on my shirt.
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There was no onesie today, and I could not have been more grateful.
The Litleo onesie had been retired three months ago when I woke up and realized I could no longer squeeze into it without feeling like a suffocating Magikarp. Mom had held it up to my chest, her eyes wide and wet, and whispered, "My baby is growing up," before promptly ordering me three more in larger sizes. Those had mysteriously found their way to the back of my closet, where they would remain until I could safely dispose of them without hurting her feelings.
Other than my growth spurt, I had been experimenting with my Verdant blessing over the past several months. Since I did not have a Pokémon yet, I had focused entirely on the healing aspect of my new powers, and honestly, they were awesome. The soft green light that pooled in my palms could close wounds in seconds, erase bruises like they had never existed, and leave behind nothing but smooth, unmarked skin.
Now, at the risk of sounding like a masochist, I may or may not have cut myself to test my healing ability. Just small cuts, nothing dangerous, but enough to see if the power would respond the way I hoped. It worked like a charm every single time. I am not a masochist, I promise. I was simply experimenting in the name of science and trying to understand my own limits. How else was I supposed to learn what my body could do?
The experiments taught me something important, too. My healing ability uses my stamina as a fuel source, which explained why the first time I had used my power to heal myself, I had faceplanted into the floor like a Magikarp out of water. Thankfully, when I conducted my experiments, I made sure I was somewhere I could be alone, somewhere there were no hidden cameras watching me. The last thing I needed was Mom finding me passed out on the bathroom floor with a cut on my finger and a trail of green light fading from my palms.
I was just about to reach for my hairbrush when a knock came at my door.
"Orion?" Mom's voice called through the wood. "Are you ready, my cub?"
I spun around, excitement bubbling up in my chest so fast I could barely contain it. This was the day. The day I had been waiting for since she first mentioned her Pokémon. The day everything would finally change.
"Yes, Mom!" I called out, barely stopping myself from bouncing on my heels. "I cannot wait to meet your team, Mama!"
Through the door, I heard her chuckle, warm and bright and full of the same excitement I was feeling.
"Then come on, my little Litleo," she said. "They have been waiting a very long time to meet you."
I sprinted.
The moment those words left Mom's mouth, my legs were already moving, carrying me out of my room and down the hallway before my brain had fully processed the command. My feet pounded against the wooden floor, the sound echoing off the walls, and somewhere behind me, I heard Mom's laughter—bright and surprised and absolutely delighted.
"Orion! Wait for me!"
But I couldn't wait. I had been waiting for ten months. Ten months of wondering what Pokémon she had, what they looked like, what they sounded like. Ten months of imagining this moment, playing it out in my mind a hundred different ways. And now it was finally here, and waiting one more second felt physically impossible.
I reached the front door and skidded to a stop, my hands pressing against the glass. It wasn't a solid door—it was a window door, clear from top to bottom, and through it I could see the backyard stretching out in front of me.
It was bigger than I remembered. Or maybe I was just smaller the last time I'd really looked at it. The grass was green and well-kept, with a few trees scattered along the edges and a small pond glinting in the morning light near the back fence.
I pressed my face closer to the glass, trying to see if I could spot any movement, any sign of the Pokémon that were supposedly waiting for me out there.
Nothing yet.
The glass fogged under my breath, and I wiped it away impatiently, my heart pounding against my ribs.
Behind me, Mom's footsteps finally caught up. I heard her laughing again—that warm, musical sound that always made me feel like everything was right in the world.
"Someone is eager," she teased, and I turned to look at her, not even bothering to hide the grin spreading across my face.
"I have been waiting forever, Mama," I said, and I might have been exaggerating, but it certainly felt like forever. "Can we go now? Please?"
Mom shook her head, still smiling, and reached for something on the small table by the door. I hadn't noticed it before—a belt, dark and sleek, coiled neatly beside the umbrella stand like it belonged there.
She picked it up, and my breath caught in my throat.
Attached to the belt were six Pokéballs.
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But not just any Pokéballs.
They were purple. Deep, rich purple, with dark accents and a polished finish that caught the light streaming through the window door. The buttons in the center were darker still, almost black, and the whole thing looked sleek and expensive and completely unlike any Pokéball I had ever seen in the anime or games.
My mouth went dry.
Those were Master Balls.
I knew what Master Balls were supposed to look like—the iconic pink and white, the stylized M on the front, the reputation of being the ultimate Pokéball that could catch anything without fail. But these weren't those. These were something else entirely. Something that existed in this world, not in the games I remembered.
Mom fastened the belt around her waist, settling it against her hip with practiced ease, and I watched, transfixed, as the six purple orbs glinted in the light.
"Mom," I said, my voice coming out smaller than I intended. "Are those...?"
She looked down at me, and her smile softened at whatever she saw on my face. "Yes, baby. These are Master Balls."
I stared at her. Then at the belt. Then back at her.
"But Master Balls are—" I stopped, trying to find the right words. "Those are supposed to be really expensive, right? Like, really, really expensive?"
Mom laughed, crouching down so she was at my eye level. "Yes, my little Litleo. They are very expensive. But let me explain something to you."
She reached down and unclipped one of the Master Balls from her belt, holding it in the palm of her hand so I could see it clearly. The purple surface seemed to shimmer as she turned it, catching the light in ways that made it look almost alive.
"You already know these are Master Balls," she said, her voice taking on that gentle teaching tone I had come to love. "But do you know what makes them so different from every other Pokeballs on the market?"
I shook my head, my eyes fixed on the orb in her hand.
"First, let me explain how any Pokéball works," she continued. "When you throw a Pokéball at a Pokémon, the ball converts the Pokémon into energy and draws it inside. Once inside, the Pokémon has a chance to break free by releasing that energy outward. The ball's capture mechanism has to be strong enough to hold that energy in place. The better the ball, the harder it is for the Pokémon to break free."
She tapped the purple surface of the Master Ball with her fingernail, and it made a soft, almost musical sound.
"A normal Pokéball has a basic capture mechanism. It works fine for weak or willing Pokémon, but the stronger the Pokémon, the more energy it can produce to break free. That's why you see Pokémon bursting out of balls in battles—they're releasing that stored energy all at once."
I had seen it happen in the anime countless times. The flash of light, the Pokéball bursting open, the Pokémon appearing on the battlefield with a triumphant cry. I had never thought about the mechanics behind it before.
"A Great Ball has a stronger capture mechanism," Mom continued. "It can hold more energy, which means it has a higher chance of catching stronger Pokémon. An Ultra Ball is even better—it can hold even more energy and has an even higher capture rate."
She held up the Master Ball, and her eyes gleamed.
"But a Master Ball is different. It doesn't just hold energy—it actively suppresses it. The moment a Pokémon is converted and drawn inside, the Master Ball's internal mechanisms begin calming the Pokémon's energy, making it harder for them to gather the strength to break free. It doesn't destroy their will or force them to obey—nothing can do that except trust and training—but it gives you a much, much higher chance of catching them."
She paused, letting that sink in.
"However," she said, and her voice grew serious, "even a Master Ball is not a guarantee. Nothing in this world is guaranteed, my cub. A strong enough Pokémon, a determined enough Pokémon, can still break free. The chance is small—very small—but it exists. Never forget about that."
I nodded slowly, absorbing everything she was telling me. It made sense. A world where capture was always one hundred percent would be a world without challenge, without growth, without the bonds that formed between a trainer and a Pokémon who chose to stay.
"The other thing about Master Balls," Mom said, her smile returning, "is that they provide the most space of any commercially available Pokéball."
I tilted my head. "Space?"
"Inside the ball," she explained. "When a Pokémon is converted to energy and stored inside a Pokéball, they aren't just floating in emptiness. The ball creates a simulated environment—a space where the Pokémon can rest, recover, and feel comfortable. A normal Pokéball creates a small space, barely bigger than the Pokémon itself. A Great Ball creates a slightly larger space. An Ultra Ball creates a comfortable space, big enough for the Pokémon to move around a little."
She tapped the Master Ball again. "A Master Ball creates the largest space of any ball you can buy. It's designed to make powerful Pokémon feel comfortable and secure, which further reduces their desire to break free. If a Pokémon is happy inside its ball, it's less likely to want to leave."
I thought about that—about the implications. About how important a Pokémon's comfort and happiness must be to their development.
"Master Balls are the best," Mom said simply, clipping the ball back onto her belt. "They are my favorite color, and they are one of the best pokeballs money can buy. And you should always give the best to your Pokémon." She looked at me, her purple eyes meeting mine with an intensity that made me straighten my spine. "Always keep that in mind, Orion. If you ever have to catch a Pokémon with a normal Pokéball—if that's all you have available in an emergency—transfer them to a Master Ball as soon as you can. Your Pokémon deserve the best, and the best is what you should give them."
I stared at her, my chest feeling too full with something I couldn't quite name.
"Now," she said, reaching back toward the table. "Speaking of which..."
She grabbed something from behind her back and then she showed it to me.
It was another Master Ball.
But this one was different.
It had a thick silver chain, each of its link's were polished and heavy. At the end hung a pendant: a Pyroar's head. It's mane flared out in layered, blade-like shapes, and the face looked calm but strong.
In its claws there was a Master Ball.
And the ball itself was the exact same size as the ones on Mom's belt. No different at all. Same deep purple. Same dark buttons. Same polished finish that seemed to shimmer when I moved my head.
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"This is for you," Mom said, her voice soft and warm. "I know that you will use it one day, my cub. And I wanted to give this to you now because..." She paused, her purple eyes shimmering. "Well I wanted to spoil you a little bit. Happy birthday, Orion."
I stared at the necklace witch held the Master Ball.
My chest felt like it was going to explode.
"Thank you, Mama!"
The words burst out of me before I could stop them, loud and bright and absolutely overflowing with everything I was feeling. I threw my arms around her waist, pressing my face against her stomach, and she laughed—that warm, musical sound that never failed to make me feel safe.
"Careful, my little Litleo," she said, her hand coming up to rest on my head, fingers threading through my messy hair. "That was only your first birthday gift, you know."
I pulled back, my eyes wide. "There's more?"
Mom just smiled, that mysterious smile that meant she was keeping secrets, and turned toward the window door.
"Now," she said, her hand resting on the handle, "let's go meet my team. It has been two years since I have seen them. And I am pretty sure they have missed me." She glanced down at me, her eyes bright with anticipation. "And they must be dying to meet you."
She opened the door.
And I finally stepped outside.
And for the first time since being born in this world, I walked on grass.
The blades were soft beneath my feet, cool and slightly damp with morning dew. I had seen grass before—through windows, from the safety of Mom's arms, during the few times she had carried me outside for fresh air. But I had never touched it. It's been so long that I forgot what grass felt like.
I took a few more steps, and then I stopped.
The clearing was beautiful—trees surrounding us on all sides, their leaves rustling softly in the breeze, their branches reaching toward the sky like they were trying to touch the clouds. The pond glinted at the edge of the tree line, and somewhere in the distance, a bird Pidgey called out, its song echoing through the forest.
But it wasn't just the beauty of the place that made me stop.
It was the feeling.
The forest felt like it was my real home and it was finally welcoming me home.
That was the only way I could describe it. The trees seemed to lean toward me, their branches stretching just a little farther in my direction. The grass beneath my feet seemed warmer and softer, like it was trying to make me as comfortable as I could be and the air itself felt different—lighter, sweeter, like every breath was filling me with something I hadn't known I was missing.
It felt as if Mom was hugging me. Like the forest was wrapping its arms around me and whispering, Welcome home little one.
I this to my Verdant blessing and kept walking, but the feeling didn't fade. If anything, it grew stronger with every step, settling into my chest like a second heartbeat.
I fastened my new necklace around my neck.
It fit perfectly and I loved it!!
I looked up at Mom, and she was watching me with an expression I couldn't quite name—something soft and bright and a little bit watery around the edges. When she saw me looking, her smile widened, and I knew she had seen how much I loved it.
"Where are your Pokémon, Mama?" I asked, looking around the clearing. The trees were beautiful, and the forest felt welcoming, but I didn't see any sign of the six powerful Pokémon she had told me about.
Mom laughed, the sound carrying through the trees. "I asked them to introduce themselves to you one by one," she said. "And well..." She grinned, and there was something almost mischievous in her expression. "They like being show-offs. So they are most likely going to make flashy appearances."
I felt my eyes go wide. Flashy appearances?
Mom's expression softened, and she crouched down in front of me, her hands resting on my shoulders. "Now, before they come here, I want to tell you something, my cub."
I waited.
"My Pokémon are kind and loyal," she said, her voice gentle but serious. "And they love you, Orion. They have loved you since before you were born. I don't want you to be scared, okay? No matter how big they are or how loud they sound—they would never, ever hurt you."
I puffed up my chest, drawing myself up to my full height—which, admittedly, was not very tall, but I made up for my hight with my confidence.
"I am brave," I declared, my voice as firm as I could make it. "And I am not afraid of anything, Mama!"
Mom stared at me for a moment, her purple eyes searching my face. Then she chuckled—a warm, fond sound that made my chest feel warm.
"That's my brave little boy," she said, rising to her feet.
She turned toward the trees, lifted two fingers to her mouth, and whistled—sharp and clear, the sound cutting through the morning air like a blade.
"Guys," she called out, her voice carrying across the clearing. "You can start now!"
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then I heard it.
Something big and fast was running our way.
The ground trembled beneath my feet, it was not trembling violently, but it was enough that I could feel it in my bones. Leaves shook from the trees. And the pond's next to our house surface rippled. Somewhere in the distance, a flock of bird type Pokémon took flight, their wings beating against the sky in a rush of panicked sounds.
The running grew louder.
I felt my heart pound in my chest.
I was excited to see the what type of pokemon it was.