The morning sun painted Viridian City in shades of gold as Team Origin stepped out of the Pokémon Center, their new Adventure Team pins catching the light.
"Okay," Gamma announced, spinning in a slow circle to take in the streets. "We have a whole city to explore. Where does everyone want to start?"
"I need to find the training grounds," Alpha said immediately. "If I'm going to be on the League path, I need to know what I'm working with. What Khan can do. What we need to learn."
Khan stood beside him, massive and patient. Kanga waved from her pouch, as enthusiastic as ever.
"Makes sense," Omega nodded. "I'll be at the Viridian City Library. There's decades of research to catch up on—maybe centuries. Gastly can help me navigate."
The Gastly floated beside him, its permanent grin somehow looking pleased at being included.
"I want to find the Pokémon Medical Center," Beta said. "Nurse Joy mentioned it's connected to the Pokémon Center but separate—a teaching hospital. Aurora and I can observe, maybe learn something."
Aurora adjusted her position on his shoulders, scales shimmering. She seemed to approve of any plan that involved people admiring her.
Gamma clapped her hands. "Great! I'm going to find the Pageant Hall and see what this world considers beautiful. Abra can—" She looked down at the yellow fox still sitting on her head, eyes closed, doing absolutely nothing. "Abra can continue being Abra."
The Abra's ear twitched. That was it.
"Meet back here at sunset?" Alpha suggested.
Agreements all around. The four friends separated, each walking toward their own destiny with their own partner beside them.
---
Alpha walked through Viridian City with Khan at his side, Kanga peeking over the edge of her pouch at everything they passed. The city was alive with activity—trainers with Pokémon on leashes or shoulders or floating beside them, vendors selling berries and Pokéblocks and equipment Alpha didn't recognize, children laughing as small creatures played in designated parks.
Everywhere he looked, humans and Pokémon existed together like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"Kangaskhan," Khan rumbled quietly. It wasn't a word he understood, but the tone was curious. She was watching him watch the city.
"Yeah," he murmured. "It's a lot to take in. Back home, we didn't have anything like this. Just us. Just humans. No companions, no partners, no—" He gestured at a passing trainer whose Pikachu was riding on their shoulder, chattering happily. "No connection like that."
Khan's massive hand rested briefly on his shoulder. A gesture he was starting to recognize as comfort.
"Thanks," he said softly.
They found the training grounds at the edge of the city—a sprawling complex of battlefields, obstacle courses, and training facilities. Trainers of all ages moved between stations, their Pokémon practicing moves, building strength, honing skills.
Alpha stopped at the entrance, overwhelmed by the sheer activity.
"Okay," he breathed. "This is... a lot."
KANGASKHAN TRAINING GROUNDS. POPULAR SPOT FOR NEW TRAINERS.
His phone buzzed with the Rotom's helpful text. The purple creature inside was watching the activity with interest.
"Can you access information about Khan's moves?" Alpha asked. "What she can do? What we need to work on?"
A pause. Then text appeared:
KANGASKHAN (YOUR PARTNER): KNOWN MOVES - TACKLE, FOCUS ENERGY, BITE.
"That's it? Three moves?"
KANGASKHAN LEARN MORE AS THEY GROW AND TRAIN. THESE ARE FOUNDATIONAL.
Alpha looked at Khan. She gazed back calmly, utterly unbothered by her limited movepool.
"Okay," he said. "Okay, we start somewhere. Let's find a quiet spot and figure out what these moves actually do."
---
The quiet spot turned out to be a small practice field near the edge of the training grounds, mostly empty except for—
A boy.
He was young—maybe fourteen or fifteen—with sharp features and intense eyes that seemed to miss nothing. His hair was dark and slightly messy, and his clothes were practical, well-worn, clearly used for serious training.
But what caught Alpha's attention wasn't the boy.
It was the Pokémon beside him.
A Rhyhorn. Massive, armored, with a horn that could probably punch through concrete. It stood motionless beside its trainer, eyes fixed forward, radiating controlled power.
The boy noticed Alpha staring. His eyes flicked to Khan, then back to Alpha, and something sparked in them.
"That's a Kangaskhan," he said. His voice was calm, measured. "Good mother. Strong protector. But not typically used for battling."
Alpha straightened. "She's my partner. We're learning."
"Learning." The boy's lips curved slightly—not quite a smile, not quite a challenge. "Everyone's learning these days. The world changed. We all have to adapt."
He stepped forward, and the Rhyhorn moved with him, perfectly synchronized.
"I'm Lex Arthur." No handshake. Just the name, offered like a statement of fact. "This is Rhyhorn. We train here every day."
"Alpha." He gestured at Khan. "This is Khan. And the baby's Kanga."
Lex's eyes flicked to the pouch, where Kanga was waving enthusiastically. Something softened in his expression—just slightly, just for a moment.
"Cute. But cute doesn't win battles."
Alpha felt his hackles rise. "She's not just cute. She's strong. We just need to figure out how to use that strength."
Lex studied him for a long moment. Then, slowly, that almost-smile returned.
"Want to test that theory?"
Alpha blinked. "You mean—"
"A battle. You and me. Your Kangaskhan against my Rhyhorn." Lex's eyes gleamed. "Best way to learn is to do. And I haven't had a decent challenge all week."
Alpha looked at Khan. She gazed back, expression unreadable. Then Kanga waved enthusiastically, and something in Khan's eyes shifted—approval.
"We're in," Alpha said.
Lex's smile widened. "Good. Follow me."
---
The battle field was regulation size—nothing fancy, just packed earth and painted lines. A few other trainers had gathered to watch, drawn by the prospect of a match.
Alpha and Lex faced each other across the field. Khan stood beside Alpha, massive and still. Rhyhorn waited opposite, equally motionless.
"Standard rules," Lex called. "First to knock out the other wins. No items, no interference. Ready?"
Alpha's heart pounded. He'd trained his whole life for combat—martial arts, strategy, physical conditioning. But this was different. This wasn't his body fighting. It was Khan's.
He looked at her. She looked back. And in her eyes, he saw trust.
"We're ready."
"Then let's begin!"
The moment Lex spoke, Alpha's phone buzzed frantically. He risked a glance—the purple Rotom was darting in circles, and text was appearing:
RHYHORN: ROCK/GROUND TYPE. STRONG AGAINST FIRE, FLYING, ELECTRIC. WEAK AGAINST WATER, GRASS, FIGHTING, GROUND, STEEL. KANGASKHAN: NORMAL TYPE. STRONG AGAINST NONE. WEAK AGAINST FIGHTING.
Normal type. Weak to fighting. And Rhyhorn knew fighting moves?
"Focus Energy first!" Alpha called, remembering the move list. "Khan, use Focus Energy!"
Khan's eyes narrowed. She tensed, and Alpha could feel something building—a concentration of power, of intent. Her muscles coiled, ready.
"Rhyhorn, Rock Blast!"
Rhyhorn's horn glowed, and suddenly rocks were flying—multiple projectiles streaking toward Khan. She tried to dodge, but she was massive and the rocks were fast. Two hit, and she stumbled.
"Khan!"
KANGASKHAN TOOK DAMAGE. FOCUS ENERGY INCREASES CRITICAL HIT CHANCE.
"Great," Alpha muttered. "Now we just need to actually hit something."
Khan regained her footing. Her eyes were sharper now, more focused. The Focus Energy had worked—she was ready.
"Bite!" Alpha commanded. "Close the distance and Bite!"
Khan charged. The ground shook with each step. Rhyhorn braced itself, but Khan was faster than she looked—she closed the gap and sank her teeth into Rhyhorn's armored side.
Rhyhorn grunted but didn't fall.
"Now, Stomp!"
Rhyhorn's massive foot came down. Khan tried to dodge, but she was too close, too committed. The Stomp caught her side and she went down hard.
"Khan!" Alpha started forward, but she was already rising—slowly, painfully, but rising. Blood trickled from a cut on her flank, and she was favoring one leg, but she was standing.
Kanga was crying in her pouch. Small, frightened sounds. But Khan ignored her own pain, reaching back with one massive hand to gently pat her baby. I'm okay. We're okay.
Alpha's chest tightened.
"Tackle," he said quietly. "One more Tackle. Can you do it?"
Khan's eyes met his. Then she charged.
It was brave. It was desperate. It wasn't enough.
Rhyhorn met the charge head-on, and the impact shook the field. Khan staggered, tried to stay upright, and finally collapsed—not unconscious, but unable to continue.
Kanga wailed.
Alpha was at her side in an instant, dropping to his knees, checking her breathing, her pulse, her injuries. "You're okay. You're okay. Just rest. Please just rest."
Lex approached slowly, Rhyhorn beside him. His expression was unreadable.
"She fought well," he said quietly. "For a first battle, that was impressive."
Alpha didn't look up. "She lost."
"Everyone loses their first battle." Lex crouched beside him. "I did. Rhyhorn did. The question isn't whether you lose—it's what you learn from it."
Alpha finally looked at him. "What did we do wrong?"
"Everything." Lex's voice was blunt but not cruel. "You didn't know your Pokémon's strengths. You didn't know your opponent's weaknesses. You led with a setup move instead of scouting. You committed to a close-range attack against a Pokémon built for close-range combat." He paused. "But you also showed heart. You didn't give up. And your Kangaskhan trusts you completely. That's not nothing."
Khan's hand reached up—slowly, painfully—and touched Alpha's cheek. Her eyes were soft. I'm okay. We're okay.
Alpha felt tears prick at his eyes and fiercely blinked them back.
"Can you help us?" he asked Lex. "Teach us what we need to know?"
Lex studied him for a long moment. Then, slowly, he nodded.
"Meet me here tomorrow. Same time. We'll start with basics—type matchups, move synergy, battle strategy." He stood. "And get her to a Pokémon Center. That cut needs attention."
Alpha nodded, already pulling out his phone to contact the others. "Thank you. Really."
Lex's almost-smile returned. "Don't thank me yet. Training's going to hurt."
He walked away, Rhyhorn following. At the edge of the field, he paused and looked back.
"Alpha. Your Kangaskhan—she's special. Not many would keep fighting with a baby in their pouch. She's not just protecting herself. She's protecting her child, and she trusted you enough to put that child in danger for a battle." His eyes were serious. "Don't waste that trust."
Then he was gone.
Alpha sat on the battlefield, Khan's head in his lap, Kanga finally quieting as she realized her mother was okay. The purple Rotom in his phone glowed softly, a gentle presence.
"We lost," Alpha whispered. "But we'll get better. I promise. We'll get better."
Khan's eyes closed. Her breathing steadied.
And in the quiet of the training grounds, a boy and his Kangaskhan began to understand what it really meant to be partners.
---
Later that night, at the Pokémon Center
Nurse Joy tended to Khan's injuries with practiced efficiency. "She'll be fine. Nothing serious—just bruises and a small cut. Rest tonight, and she'll be ready to train again tomorrow."
Alpha let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Thank you."
The others had gathered around—Gamma with Abra on her head, Beta with Aurora coiled elegantly beside him, Omega with Gastly floating nearby. The young Rotom played quietly in a corner, supervised by their phone Rotom.
"Heard you had quite the day," Gamma said softly. "A battle. A loss. A new rival."
Alpha nodded. "His name's Lex Arthur. He's young, but he's good. Really good. He's going to train us."
"That's wonderful," Beta said. "Learning from someone experienced—that's exactly what you need."
Omega studied Alpha with those sharp eyes. "You're taking this well. The loss, I mean. I expected more... Alpha-ness."
Alpha laughed tiredly. "What's Alpha-ness?"
"Loud declarations about how you'll win next time. Dramatic promises of vengeance. General overconfidence."
"I feel that," Alpha admitted. "Underneath everything, I feel that. But today taught me something." He looked at Khan, resting peacefully in a specially designed recovery bed. "This isn't about me. It's about us. Khan and me. Kanga too. If I'm going to be her trainer—their trainer—I need to be smart. Not just strong."
Gamma's eyes softened. "Look at you. Growing as a person."
"Shut up."
"Never."
But she was smiling, and so was he.
Omega pulled out his phone, scrolling through research. "I found some interesting information about Kangaskhan battle strategies. There's a particular technique called—"
"Tomorrow," Alpha interrupted gently. "Tell me tomorrow. Tonight, I just want to sit with my partner and rest."
Omega paused. Then, surprisingly, he nodded. "Tomorrow, then."
They sat together in the quiet of the Pokémon Center—four friends from another world, their Pokémon companions around them, a whole universe of discovery ahead.
And Alpha, for the first time, understood that losing wasn't the end.
It was just the Beginning.