Summary: "I have just one question for you. Will you be my partner?" With these words, a journey begins. SI/OC. AU.

I have been wanting to write something like this since the very beginning. A Pokemon SI with a large but dark world. This story takes significant inspiration from the Reincarnation OCs written by BANIX. Another source of inspiration are Pokemon Fangames like Reborn, Rejuvenation, Clockwork and Insurgence. Check those out.

My main goal of this is to make a full-fledged series, with individual stories for each region. This would be Book 1, if I ever got to planning out the next few series.

My main aim of this story, in particular, is to create a somewhat realistic world, and to ensure that my MC does not become a Gary Stu.

Also Galar and Gen 8 is not going to be appearing in this story at all. I don't have the Switch so I have not played Sword and Shield, and I think Dynamax is stupid. We had Evolution beyond Evolution, and Hyper-powered attacks, but now we have B I G.

WARNING: There is a scene in this chapter about an attempted rape scene. The rape never happens since it was stopped in time, but I decided to give a warning anyway. Also, the main character dies in this chapter. Don't worry he gets better.

This chapter also does not have any Pokemon apart from an introductory bit, and it is supposed to act as an introductory chapter to the actual story which will begin with Chapter 2. That is why the title of this Chapter is 'Prelude'.

Chapter 2 will be released within a week or two when this Chapter is released, whenever that is.

The bond between a Pokemon and a Human is a fascinating thing to observe.

Pokemon and Humans are completely different beings. One is a creature of instinct, the other of rationality. One is capable of bending the elements of nature to its will, and the other uses its intellect to craft devices which can subjugate the former. But both of them are part of this world.

The biology of a Pokemon is completely alien to that of humans, and even those Pokemon with a world's worth of difference between them, share some genetic similarities, however slim it may be. For example, an Onix and a Caterpie share significant similarities in the manner in which they crawl, albeit with some minor, but noticeable differences. A Caterpie's style of movement involves crawling such that the sticky residue underneath it is fully used, so that it can climb trees and branches with minimal effort so that it can reach the more nutritious leaves on the taller branches of trees. An Onix on the other hand, uses its method of movement to generate large amounts of force, especially when underground. This allows an Onix to use its rock-hard skull to dig through the earth, often creating tunnels and caves. Indeed, over 60% of caves in the Known World have been made by Onix and similar ground or rock type Pokemon.

The point I am trying to make here is that even Pokemon which are wildly different have some small similarity in them. Humans on the other hand...

Theories on the biology of Humans and that of Pokemon are completely incompatible. The closest genetic relative the Homo Sapiens race on this planet is the Reniculus line. However, those are supposedly a relatively new species, and it generally accepted by the scientific community that a strange mutation occurred in a pre-existing Pokemon, an ancestor to the modern-day Reniculus, a long time ago, to give the Reniculus line a strong genetic link to humans.

So, why are humans and Pokemon today showing such strong bonds?

A common answer to the question of 'Why do Pokemon follow Humans?' would be to say that a Pokemon has an inborn desire for growth and power. However, being driven by their instincts, prevent them from this goal. This is why a Pokemon want a Human as a partner, since Humans are capable of separating themselves from their primal instincts. Humans are also incredibly ingenious, coming up with new ways for their Pokemon to acquire strength, using their resourceful and innovative minds. Today, by using a Technical Machine, or a TM, a Pokemon can instantly learn a move or technique, even those it should not learn naturally. This is often submitted as proof of this theory.

This theory is true, at least partially. It offers a decent explanation to why Psychic types, whose members often show critical reasoning skills and thinking capabilities on par with that of humans would willingly accept a Human master. However, I believe that the bond between man and Pokemon is deeper.

Young Pokemon, after having reached an appropriate age, typically leave the nests of their parents and embark on a journey for their future. There are three outcomes for them from then on. They could die, of starvation, or by the hands of some predator, or by some other means. They could go on and make a nest of their own, and once the Pokemon has secured means of acquiring both food and water, they would seek out a mate.

Or the most preferred option; to find a Pokemon Trainer.

Each Pokemon has their own individual motivation of searching for a Trainer. Some Pokemon desire adventure, and pledging allegiance to a Trainer is the best way to do so. Other's want to become stronger, and the fastest and most reliable way of getting that strength is by getting a Trainer. There are plenty of cases of a Pokemon joining a Trainer, simply because it wants to live a comfortable life, and humans can provide it food and water.

There have been cases of Pokemon having entirely unique motives; a certain Pokemon belonging to a Trainer I knew desired revenge on a poacher who killed her family. Other researchers have provided similar cases.

Regardless of the source, a bond can always be formed between a Pokemon and a Human. This bond is many things, a strong connection of two friends, a representation of the shared struggles both of them go through, and several things more, depending on the case. Most Trainers, those who have a heart know this.

What a lot of these Trainers don't realize, is that this bond is also a source of great strength.

-Excerpts from 'The Connection' by Kanto Regional Professor and Former Indigo League Champion, Samuel Oak.

It happened suddenly.

I was an ordinary fellow. I had a small job, serving tables at a Chinese Restaurant but most of my money was made writing fiction on the internet. Apart from that, I had a tidy inheritance which would allow me to live comfortably for the rest of my life. I had few friends, and all of those were nameless people I met on the internet. I could never meet them.

I lived in a small apartment, filled with just enough necessities for a comfortable living. A couch, a TV, a dining table with some chairs, and a bedroom in the room in the interior. My most prized possessions were my PlayStation and my laptop. Apart from some other furniture, kitchen equipment and a few dozen articles of clothing, all this were the only things I owned.

I lived alone in that apartment for the last seven years. My everyday routine was quite simple, I woke up at about seven in the morning, and went out for a walk. If my fridge was empty, then I would bring back supplies to replenish it as well. Much of my morning routine would be my actual work: writing on the internet. I write all sorts of things: poems, reviews and criticism, articles about politics and history, but my main domain of work lied in non-fiction. While publishing a book was not very feasible in the age of mass media, I was able to make a neat sum by writing short stories and novellas online. Sometimes, when I had the mood I would turn to Fanfiction.

At precisely noon, I have my lunch. I am a decent cook myself, and sometimes, if I had the mood then I would have food at some local restaurant or something. My shift is from four all the way to late in the night, so by three, I begin my preparations to leave.

After having a shower and refreshing myself, I would leave and take the 306 Bus to the train station. From there, I would take a train and after two stops and a short five-minute walk, I would reach my destination.

The restaurant 'Cafe Lyon' is neither a Cafe nor related to Lyon, France. The story goes that when it was founded thirty years ago, the founder wanted to give it some classy name which would roll of your tongue. Plenty of names were mentioned, but somehow Cafe Lyon was on the top of that list, and thus the name stuck. The building housing it was a two-storey one, and it was excellently furnished and the food is made of the finest of ingredients. The restaurant was affluent and the meals there were quite expensive. It was completely air-conditioned, except the kitchen of course. All staff were supposed to wear a designated uniform, which was a typical chef's outfit for the kitchen staff, and a black suit, trousers and tie for waiters.

After changing into my uniform, I promptly get to work being a waiter. I serve tables, take orders, and take food and drinks from the kitchen to the customers. Occasionally, I would have to help out by washing dishes. I ensure to be on my best behaviour, and pocket any tips they may leave me. On slow days, and during breaks, I would pull out my notepad and think of story ideas. My co-workers and I do not share many words, and the manager is a stiff and stern man, only speaking whenever it was necessary. Therefore, there was not much socialization in that front as well.

I am relieved from my duties at about half-past ten. After changing back into casual clothing, I leave back for home. More than often, I have dinner out, or I take that day's leftovers. Sometimes, I order food from some Pizza joint or sandwich place., and carry it home, all warm and wrapped. After I reach home, I brush my teeth, and have a glass of cold milk. Sometimes the milk is replaced by juice, or if I am feeling particularly adventurous, an alcoholic beverage. Then I go to bed, and I fall asleep.

To some of you, the life of a waiter may seem to be a tedious and tiring one. While waiting tables, or working in the fast-food industry is pays fairly well for young people with no experience, it is not something you would want to do full-time. But I was perfectly fine with this. It was not as if I was particularly lacking in anything, and being a waiter is actually just a side job for me. Yes, it gets boring sometimes, but plenty of entertaining incidents and interesting people have been seen by me in the restaurant. The only reason I kept on working there was not because of some great necessity or something, but just because I could.

I started working there seven years ago. A few months after that, this routine came to being and eventually it stuck. It is a bit monotonous and repetitive, but it wasn't all that bad. It was a life.

Of course, it was all until that day.

I had reported to my duties as usual, and I had got to work. Shortly after my shift was over, I was asked by the Head Chef to dispose of some trash in the disposal unit outside. After changing out of the stuffy uniform, I went out and chucked the trash bag away. Then ripping open a small plastic packet, I place the lollipop in my mouth. I know it is unexpected, but I do have quite a sweet tooth.

I steadily make my way to the Train station, which is slightly more than half a Kilometer away from Cafe Lyon. It was a short walk, but the street lights were not working properly due to a Power outage which happened in the morning. I have to walk with great care and an eye on the road, since some part of the sidewalk is rather uneven.

I am maybe halfway to the Train Station, when I hear a shrill cry. It came from an alleyway whose entrance was on the other side of the narrow street. That was not a cry of an animal, but rather the cry of a person in danger. I recognized the sound as a woman's.

I do not know why I decided to investigate this. Perhaps it was out of curiosity, perhaps it was because I had found something which finally broke this long, monotonous cycle I had been in. Maybe it was because I genuinely wanted to help that person. I do not remember. All I knew was that I wanted to see what was going on.

The shadows cast by the buildings on either side shrouded the alleyway in darkness. I considered pulling out my smartphone and using the torch in it, but I was concerned if the person who shouted, or someone else would react badly. I waited for an instant, to allow my eyes to adjust appropriately to the darkness.

And then, I set foot into oblivion.

The alleyway was empty, devoid of humans. The only things present were myself, a stray cat sleeping on the side, a few piles of trash, and a large towering brick wall which was twice my height on the other side. I considered that the voice may have come from behind the wall, but judging by the sound, it felt as if it came from somewhere closer.

Then I realized what was going on.

The building to my right was an extremely large one, extending all the way to behind that wall in front of me. But the building to my left was considerably smaller. And there, in the corner, barely a few metres away from the wall, tucked away...

Was a second alleyway.

I carefully walked towards this second alleyway, so as not to alert anyone of my presence. This alleyway was even darker than the one I am in, and not even the minimal light of the pale moon behind me reached it. The reason for this was that the Celestial body was in an angle at that time, and thus the white moonlight did not illuminate the path covered by the Building in front of it.

The night was silent. I could not hear a single sound except that of my own heart beating. Wait. There was a second sound. One of... muffled groaning, as if someone is trying to speak when their mouth is being blocked.

Something very wrong and probably extremely illegal was going on.

Unless of course its a romantic duo with unusual kinks. Anything was possible.

Quietly, making as little sound as I could make, I peered into the alleyway. The sight was horrifying.

A single man stood there, his pants down, and his body on some other, substantially smaller person. His hand was over the smaller person's face and he was clearly fumbling with this small person's clothing, trying to remove their pants. The small person tried to speak or scream, but only muffled groans came out. In the shadows, apart from their outlines and the noises they make, I could make out nothing.

This definitely wasn't some weird romantic duo with a taste for BDSM. This was rape.

A clinking sound, one of a small metallic object being dropped on the floor resounded throughout the area, breaking the silence. My slightly panicking mind managed to make a connection: that was the sound of a belt buckle dropping. Now, that rapist was going to violate another person.

I felt sick. I can't let this happen.

I felt panic since I did not know what to do, but I also felt rage at this stranger for what he was about to do. I wanted to help, but I also felt scared, since there were so many ways that could go wrong.

I was often in youth praised for my analytical and planning abilities. My teachers said that if I had bothered, then I could have become a successful Chess player. These capabilities went into gutter, disposed off by my emotionally confused mind, as I without thinking yelled out, "Hey! What's happening here?!"

My breath caught in my throat and my heart skipped a beat as the molester left his victim. I could hear shuffling of feet, and I knew that he was facing in my direction. I knew that this was probably the best opportunity.

Before he could speak, or do anything, I quickly crossed the distance between us in a second. When I was younger, I attended self-defence classes for a day, before dropping out, but I knew how to throw a punch. My enclosed fist aimed up above me where I could see the outline of his face, and I could feel a sickening crack as my knuckles met his cheek.

He had not fallen, but he was in a daze, surprised by my sudden attack. I screamed at his victim to leave, to go and find help. I did not know if this man possessed some weapon. If he had a gun then we were done for, so if his target left, then at least one of us would survive.

The scared small person, whose face was marred with tears, scrambled out of there, re-wearing their pants. Judging by the long hair, and soft features, then the one I had just saved was a girl. She muttered a quick Thank You, as she bolted from there.

It did not matter in which direction the girl ran. If she ran towards the station, then she would see a Chemist Shop which was one of those stores which were open 24X7. If she ran towards Cafe Lyon, then she would see a nightclub and bar which should be open even now. As long as she stays away, for now, she will be safe.

I did not have that advantage. This man had recovered from my punch faster than I anticipated, and he would give me no opportunity to turn my back on him. Considering the hatred I could see in his eyes, he will not give me mercy either. ]I had to stay and fight.

As the girl retreated, I took a few steps back to analyze my opponent. In the darkness, I could only see a vague outline of his silhouette.

The rapist was a head taller than me, and with his broad shoulders and the faint presence of muscles in his arm, I could tell that he was stronger than me by a significant margin. I, on the other hand, had speed and the element of surprise on my side. Both of which I can lose quickly.

I had first blood, but if I give my enemy the chance then he would be able to seize victory. The best thing I can do now is to keep up the momentum.

I do not need to defeat him to win, all I need to do is to hold him back before help arrives.

He screams, "You Bastard!" I could smell the alcohol under his breath. He was clearly drunk.

And at that moment, before he could react I move. My right leg thrusts me ahead with a burst of speed, as I raise my left arm to land an attack on him. He had a large frame, and while that gives him a longer reach, it also makes him a bigger target.

But I still miss. He was faster than I thought.

He moves to the side, but he was not fast enough. While my punch missed, my body was still moving at some speed. My right arm and the right side of my chest push against him, and he reels slightly with the impact.

He snarled, as he moved to the side. "You Fucking Bastard! I'll kill you

!" He reached out for my throat, and I pushed away his hands. We fumbled for a moment, trying to get the edge of each other, until he had somehow forced me against the wall. I found his hands around my throat, as he tried to choke me to death.

My throat was being crushed. I tried to push him away, but he was leaning over me, pushing his weight on my body and I was too weak. My inability to breathe weakened me greatly. I tried to reach out, to look for something to use against him...

There, just in the right distance, my right arm was directly next to a glass window. In a sudden moment of either tremendous stupidity or brilliance, I gathered all my strength and smashed my hand against the windowpane.

The glass was thin and not very strong, as it shattered into a million pieces. Quite a few of them landed pierced my hand, and I let out a gasp of pain. I could feel warm blood leaving my body and dripping down the side. I did not have the strength to pick one of those fallen shards on the ground and use it as a weapon. Tears gathered around my eyes, as my vision blurred. In one last effort, I thrust my bloody hand into my enemy's face.

He flinched and fell on the ground, surprised by my makeshift mace. The glass pieces had pierced all around my hand and my wrist. It looked pretty bad, and it hurt quite a lot too. The blood dripping from my hand had somehow blinded him, and he had fallen on the ground due to this. He wiped off the blood with the sleeve of his shirt, and tried looking around for something.

My vision cleared, and I could see properly. I had somewhat recovered from, and I saw the man kneel on the ground, as something had somehow fallen on the ground, probably from his pocket. Could it be a knife? I was not taking that chance.

I slammed my foot down on his left arm, as he was trying to reach out into the darkness. He yelled out a shriek of pain and agony, and I heard a sickening crunch as the bones in this arm were crushed by the force I was applying. He waved his right arm in the air, and when they touched the ground, I felt everything stop. I could vaguely see the outline of a hilt.

I could not react. With one swift stroke, he had pierced my knee with his knife, and a fountain of blood spouted out.

I screamed in pain, as I collapsed on the ground. That bastard...

I urged myself to get up, to defend myself in some manner. He promptly sat on me, pinning me to the ground. The moon somehow appeared over him, and I could see a triumphant, grim smile on his blood-soaked lips. I did my ever-damnest to try and move, but it was all in vain.

One single movement was all it will take for him to pierce my heart.

I know knives. I have volunteered in the kitchen several times myself, and have often examined the blades that the chef use. There are several types, all of them used for specific purposes. A knife for skinning vegetables is not suitable for cutting meat.

I recognized the blade used by my murderer, but it was not a blade which belonged to the kitchen. It was a hunting knife, a silvery blade with an obsidian hilt. I had seen it once online. These knives are used to skin deer and other prey, but they could also pierce through flesh, skin and bone with ease. It resembled a curved dagger more than anything.

This was the blade by which I died.

A silvery flash. The blade pierced through my clothes and my skin as if it was nothing, and I could feel it near my heart. I stopped struggling, and blood spurted out of my mouth.

I was... going to die wasn't I? No human could typically recover from such a mortal wound.

My vision begins to blur. My hearing stops completely and I slowly begin to lose all sensation in my body. I try to move, but my body seems heavy and disconnected. I can feel warm blood leave my body through the wound which pierced my heart.

I could feel my body getting colder and colder. I was about to die in a moment or to. My senses have begun to fail me. I could see that my killer has gotten up from my body, but I could not hear the sound of his footsteps. I could no longer smell the dirty stench of the trash in the alleyway, and I could no longer feel my clothes on my body. The only sense that remained with me was my sense of sight, and even that was wavering.

It was getting difficult to breathe. My vision stuttered for a moment before completely shutting down. I felt like I was being suffocated, as if I was being deprived of air. It was as if I was submerged in some heavy liquid which poured through my lungs and clogged my trachea and I could no longer hold my breath.

I felt like I wanted to cry. It was getting darker, and darker. I did not want to die, I did not want to die, I did not want to die, I did not want to die, I Did Not Want To Die, I DID not WANT to DIE, I DID NOT WANT TO DIE...!

Why did I help that woman, I would not have died. I could have just walked away, or just called the police or something. WHy? whY? WHY!?

A distant memory comes to mind. Perhaps it was something obscure and trivial. Perhaps it was a flashback of my entire life. I do not remember.

I stayed like that for a second, maybe more. And then I was dead.

I floated in a some strange, obscure place. There was no light there and I could not see. I could not feel my body at all, and I wasn't even sure if I had one. It was as if I was suspended in some kind of liquid, floating endlessly.

I did not know if that was me, or rather my soul.

I did not want to die, but I did so anyway. There is no point in wallowing about what has happened, but instead, I should be focused on what to do now.

Was this some hell or heaven? Or was this some kind of limbo, a metaphysical space where my soul would rest until it moves on. I was not particularly religious, but what lies beyond death is a mystery, and theorizing about my current situation kept my thoughts occupied.

I drifted in this place for a moment, or maybe a millennia. My thoughts eventually shifted from theorizing about my current situation to my death.

I died in some alleyway, preventing some drunk maniac from raping a girl. This was not a bad death, I concluded, but it was not the type of death I would have liked.

When I was young, I was ambitious. I had outrageous dreams like 'starting a company which can mine minerals from Asteroids' and 'Stopping World Hunger', and 'making world peace'. I wanted to rule the world, and save people from suffering. I wanted to be a scientist, a sports star and a politician all at once.

In the end I achieved none of that. My ambition faded away quickly as reality hit me in the face. I dropped out of college and I changed jobs twice before deciding to stick around here. I started writing on the internet and while it was fun, it was a far cry from the dreams my younger self had. I was friendless and anti-social, and I was just a guy you would see while walking down the street. I was just an ordinary man.

I hated it.

I hated dying in obscurity. No one would remember me, and no one would care, except maybe that girl I saved. And she too would pass on, forgetting me except for the fact that I was the one who saved her. This was not what I wanted.

I wanted my name to be heard and praised everywhere by everyone. I wanted to make my mark on history, and become a figure on par with the likes of Gandhi, Cyrus and Caeser. I wanted to have an elegant funeral, where dignitaries from all over the world would make speeches on what a great man I was, but not actually mean any of it. I wanted to change the world, and how people think.

I was discontent with my life. I had not lived it to the fullest.

If I had a second chance, then I would ensure that I would live it to the fullest.

Then I felt a tug.

It was as if some strange invisible force was pulling me towards it. I had no control, and I could feel myself being pulled towards something. I could not tell in which direction I was moving, but I was quickly gathering speed.

I had no idea what was happening, but I knew one thing; I was being reborn.

...This is not the type of story you are familiar with.

This is the story of one guy, trying to make his mark on the world.

This is the story of his friends, trying to be the very best they can be.

This is the story of his rivals, and their quest to find themselves.

This is a story of friendship and enmity. Of War and the efforts it takes for one to get peace.

This is my story, and this is the story of how I changed the world.

A/N: Well, then. That's that. Don't forget to comment and favorite this story.