Jordan's adventure in the Pokémon world

Jordan POV –

As the echoes of the intense battle subsided, Jordan felt the exhilaration of his victory start to fade, replaced by a wave of calm. He had just secured his eighth badge, a milestone he'd been working toward tirelessly, and the win still felt surreal. Candice had been gracious in her defeat, commending his skill and his team's strength, and she had made an unexpected request that took him by surprise. She'd asked him to stay in Snowpoint City for a few days, suggesting he spend some time with the local children, sharing his experience as a trainer and teaching them about Pokémon care and training.

At first, Jordan hesitated. He was more comfortable battling and strategizing than speaking in front of a crowd, especially to a group of wide-eyed, eager children. But the more he thought about it, the more he saw it as an opportunity to share the knowledge and love for Pokémon that had been instilled in him since childhood.

So, the following morning, Jordan found himself in the community center of Snowpoint City, surrounded by an excited group of kids, most clutching Poké Balls or holding their small Pokémon companions. Candice introduced him with enthusiasm, and the kids' eyes widened as they realized they were about to learn from the very trainer who had just defeated their gym leader.

"Alright, everyone," Jordan began, a bit nervous but steady. "Today, I want to talk to you about what it takes to raise strong, healthy Pokémon—not just for battles, but as friends and partners."

The kids listened intently, some nodding eagerly, others glancing at their Pokémon with pride. Jordan went on to explain the fundamentals: feeding Pokémon well, keeping them physically active, and understanding their unique needs.

"For example," he said, motioning to a small boy holding a Snover. "Ice-type Pokémon like your Snover will thrive here in Snowpoint's colder weather. But remember, Snover also needs a balanced diet, with lots of berries and, in particular, some that help keep its energy up in the snow."

Jordan then talked about the importance of exercise. "Exercise isn't just running or jumping—it's about finding the right kind of movements that make your Pokémon strong. Like my Glaceon, who needs to practice its Ice Beam by aiming at targets. Or my Infernape, who does agility drills so he can move fast in battle."

One of the children raised their hand, asking, "How did you make your Infernape's flames turn blue?"

Jordan chuckled, realizing they'd been paying close attention. "That took a lot of training and trust. Infernape's blue flames only come out when he's completely focused and giving everything he's got. It's something that comes from years of understanding each other and pushing each other to grow."

The kids looked at him with admiration, and Jordan could see the spark of ambition in their eyes. It reminded him of his early days, watching powerful trainers with awe and dreaming of someday reaching their level.

In the following days, Jordan led small training sessions, helping each child work on specific skills with their Pokémon. He focused on gentle exercises that encouraged cooperation and trust rather than raw power. During a session, Jordan noticed a young girl struggling with her Spheal, who seemed more interested in playing than training.

"Spheal is full of energy," Jordan observed, crouching down beside her. "Sometimes, it helps to turn training into a game. Try rolling a ball and have Spheal use its Water Gun to push it back to you."

The girl's eyes lit up, and she immediately tried Jordan's suggestion. Soon enough, Spheal was happily rolling the ball back and forth with her, practicing its Water Gun without even realizing it was training.

He moved from child to child, giving them tips on how to care for their Pokémon's health and fitness. Some Pokémon, he explained, benefited from a high-energy routine, while others, like Rock or Steel types, might need heavier, slower workouts to build their strength. His explanations were simple but insightful, leaving the kids fascinated by how much there was to know about caring for Pokémon.

During snack breaks, Jordan introduced them to some of his own Pokémon's favorite treats. "When you're training," he advised, "it's good to have healthy snacks for your Pokémon. They're working hard too, so giving them something nutritious helps keep their energy up. My Leafeon loves Pecha Berries and Rawest Berries, especially after a long training session."

The kids were delighted to learn that each Pokémon had unique preferences. Some even jotted down notes, eager to try new treats with their partners. They peppered him with questions: What was his hardest battle? How did he train for each gym? What was it like to go up against a Mega-evolved Pokémon?

With each question, Jordan answered honestly, sharing both his triumphs and his struggles. He wanted them to understand that being a trainer wasn't just about winning—it was about perseverance, learning from mistakes, and forming a bond that went beyond battles.

By the end of his stay, the children had grown attached to Jordan, and he to them. His initial nerves had long since melted away, replaced by a sense of pride. He realized that he hadn't just been teaching them—he'd been reminded of his journey and the importance of the simple joys that came with being a trainer.

On his last day, Candice organized a small farewell gathering, where the kids presented Jordan with handmade drawings of him and his Pokémon. One picture, in particular, showed Jordan's Infernape with its blue flames, surrounded by all the other Pokémon he'd used against Candice. The children had captured the scene perfectly, and he couldn't help but smile.

"Thank you all," he said, looking around at the young trainers. "Keep taking care of your Pokémon, keep learning, and remember that it's okay to lose sometimes. As long as you keep trying, you'll keep getting stronger."

As he walked away, Jordan felt a renewed sense of purpose. The battles and badges were important, but so was passing on the spirit of training to those who would come after him. He knew that these kids would carry on that spirit, maybe even becoming the kind of trainers he'd be proud to face someday. And with that thought, he set off, ready for whatever challenge came next in his journey.

Before leaving Snowpoint City, I Cityed my system to see 6 gift boxes of for wing against Volkner, get myself a patent, win against Candice, get my 8th advanced gym battle, reach the Advanced stage in Aura powers and rea, ching the Advanced stage in Psychic powers.

In the bottom of the system panel, I see c, combine and according to it I can c, combine 3 or more similar achievement boxes to get an upgrade gift. That whaThat'sdid I combined all 6 and got a 7-star gift box when I opened the box to saw an egsawAnd when I saw the egg I was shocked to know what the egg would hatch as, and according to the system, the egg would hatch into the legendary Pokemon Pokemonaza.

Yes, yes, yes fuck yes I got Rayquaza baby one of the most badass dragon legendary Pokemons oh thank you GOD/ROB/Arceus for this. As I was doing that I let the egg stay in the system and allow the system to Incubate the egg properly. And I decided to go back home to Sandgem town to meet Mom and also to meet Professor Rowan. I wonder where my other classmates are, especially Ethan and Mary.

Ethan's POV

Ethan adjusted his cap, squinting as he looked up at the Sinnoh mountainside, the mid-morning sun casting long shadows across the jagged cliffs. He had come a long way since those early days back at Professor Rowan's lab when he'd stood next to Mary and Jordan, waiting to choose his first Pokémon. Chimchar had been his choice, a fiery partner who shared his sense of adventure and determination. The memories of that day were vivid—Jordan with his serious expression, Mary bubbling with excitement, and himself, full of confidence and eager to prove himself.

But now, he had to admit, Jordan had set a standard Ethan hadn't anticipated. Jordan was already well on his way to the Sinnoh League, his journey accelerated by an uncanny drive that left most of his peers in awe. Ethan had his accomplishments: he'd earned five badges so far, a respectable achievement by any measure. But every time he saw a news update or watched one of Jordan's battles, it was like a wake-up call, a reminder that his friend was moving at an almost unmatched pace.

"I'm doing fine," Ethan reassured himself, watching his Monferno practicing its Flame Wheel on some nearby rocks. He and Monferno had trained rigorously, aiming to earn their sixth badge soon. "It's just… Jordan's path is different, that's all."

There was no malice in his heart toward Jordan. Ethan was, after all, inspired by his friend's dedication and accomplishments. He had watched Jordan take on gym leaders with strength and skill that even their hometown had started buzzing about. But deep down, he felt the faint tug of envy—why was Jordan moving so quickly? What was driving him? Ethan remembered Jordan's focused eyes from back when they worked on projects together in school, and it made a little more sense. But still, he couldn't help but wonder if he was missing some key piece of the puzzle.

Shaking his head, Ethan turned back to Monferno, who was patiently waiting for his next command. "Alright, buddy. Let's make sure we're ready for that next gym. We've got work to do."

Mary's POV

Mary brushed a strand of hair out of her face as she watched her Empoleon practice its Aqua Jet. The polished maneuver sent a spray of water arcing through the air, the power and grace of the move a testament to how far they'd come together. She was proud of her Pokémon, and, truthfully, proud of herself. She'd earned four gym badges so far, her journey slower but fulfilling. She was taking her time, savoring the small towns, helping out wherever she could, and enjoying the slower pace that allowed her to explore Sinnoh's rich beauty.

But then she'd see news about Jordan—how he was winning gym battles left and right, earning badges faster than most trainers in their league. She felt pride for him, but also a bit of insecurity. Jordan's achievements were staggering, and she couldn't deny the twinge of doubt they sometimes stirred in her.

"I have to remember," she thought, "that my journey is my own. Jordan and I chose different paths, and that's okay." But she couldn't shake the feeling that his journey was eclipsing hers in a way she hadn't anticipated.

Mary and Jordan had always gotten along well. Back in school, Jordan had been the one to help her with complex assignments, and they'd even partnered up on a few projects. She admired his focus, his quiet intensity. But she hadn't realized just how much that drive would set him apart once they began their journey.

Empoleon's cheerful chirp snapped her out of her thoughts, and she smiled. "Thanks, Empoleon. Let's keep going. We'll get our badges our way."

Deep down, she held onto the hope of meeting up with Jordan again. She wanted to see for herself just how far he'd come and to let him know she was proud of him, no matter what.

Trainer Richy's POV

Richy, a mutual acquaintance of Jordan, Ethan, and Mary, had crossed paths with Jordan on occasion. He was fast-paced, competitive, and driven by a constant urge to prove himself. He had set his sights on beating every trainer he could find, and Jordan was no exception.

"Can you believe it?" Richy fumed, pacing up and down in front of his Staraptor, who was busy preening its feathers. "Jordan's already gotten eight badges! Eight! He's making the rest of us look like amateurs!"

He wasn't jealous exactly—at least, that's what he told himself. But seeing someone his age move so quickly was infuriating. Barry thrived on competition and the fact that Jordan seemed so untouchable at times gnawed at him. He vowed to train harder, to be faster, to show Jordan and everyone else that he was a contender too.

"Come on, Staraptor!" Richy shouted, his voice echoing across the clearing. "We're going to show Jordan that we can keep up with him!"

Staraptor screeched in agreement, taking flight and swooping down in a powerful dive. Barry watched his partner with determination, a fire ignited in his heart. He would show Jordan that he was every bit his equal, no matter how many badges his friend collected.

Professor Rowan's POV

From the quiet solitude of his office, Professor Rowan observed the journeys of his former students with quiet pride and admiration. Jordan, Ethan, and Mary had each set out with great potential, each one showing promise and drive. But Jordan had truly astonished him. Rowan had known Jordan was talented, of course, but the sheer speed and mastery with which he was progressing took even him by surprise.

Rowan had seen many trainers come and go over the years, but Jordan's journey had a unique quality, a certain intensity that was difficult to describe. His Pokémon were formidable, and he seemed to understand them on a level that went beyond simple training. Rowan had even heard rumors that some of the gym leaders in Sinnoh were privately astonished by Jordan's strength and precision.

"I knew he was special," Rowan thought, a small smile tugging at his lips. "But I never anticipated this level of dedication."

He sometimes wondered if the other trainers—Ethan, Mary, and even Barry—felt overshadowed by Jordan's accomplishments. He hoped they didn't see Jordan's progress as a measure of their worth. Each of them had a path to walk, and each journey was unique.

But as he watched Jordan continue to achieve great heights, Rowan couldn't help but feel a touch of fatherly pride. He had high hopes for each of his students, but he sensed that Jordan was destined for something extraordinary.

Brenden POV –

Brenden leaned back in his plush, designer leather chair in his tent, watching footage of Jordan's latest battle against Candice on his high-tech tablet. The screen glowed in the dim light of his campsite, illuminating the frustration written across his face as Jordan's Infernape unleashed a blazing, almost ethereal blue flare that engulfed Candice's Abomasnow. Even through the screen, Brenden could feel the heat, the power, the wild, raw energy radiating from the move. But the thrill he might have once felt watching an exciting battle was now replaced with a bitter resentment that gnawed at him like a dark fire.

How is he doing this? Brenden thought, his fists clenching. Jordan—of all people.

He could hardly stomach the idea that Jordan was so far ahead of him. When they had all left their hometown, Brenden was certain he'd be the first to complete his gym challenge. His parents had made sure he had every advantage: a rare, powerful starter, custom training programs, and a team carefully selected for him by some of the best breeders in the country. Everything he wanted, he got. His father had even hired a private coach from the Hoenn region to ensure Brenden had a head start in battle strategy and command. But none of it was making the difference he'd expected.

Sure, he'd won a few badges, but not nearly as many as he'd intended by this point. Trainers like Ethan and Mary—people he'd once dismissed as just "average"—were somehow catching up, maybe even surpassing him in some aspects. And then there was Jordan, who wasn't just ahead; he was miles ahead, an almost unstoppable force. Each of his victories seemed more impressive than the last, as though he was moving with some untouchable momentum.

"He's only doing this to embarrass me," Brenden muttered to himself, his voice tinged with bitterness. He knew it was irrational, but he couldn't shake the feeling. Jordan's victories, his rapid rise, seemed like a deliberate affront, a personal slight. Brenden could already hear the whispers: townspeople, classmates, other trainers—all marveling at how Jordan was making waves while he struggled. His family had connections, wealth, and power; by all logic, he should have been the one to shine.

"Why can't they see that I'm just as capable?" he whispered to himself, his tone resentful. He knew others looked at him with an unspoken disappointment, as though they expected more from him because of his background, his resources, and his privilege. But all he saw were taunts, backhanded compliments. When he showed off his Pokémon or recounted his achievements, he could see it in their eyes: the skepticism, the polite smiles hiding smug judgment. It was as if they were saying, With all that money, you should be doing better.

He remembered the way some kids at school used to look at him—the awe and respect when he showed up with the rarest Pokémon, the flashiest gear. But now, that admiration was gone. It had all shifted to Jordan, the "underdog," the one who supposedly worked hard and achieved greatness on his merit. Brenden's frustration only grew as he watched more clips, his hand gripping the tablet until his knuckles turned white.

I could be like that if I wanted, he thought. I could be just as good as Jordan, better even, if I tried.

But deep down, he wasn't sure he believed it. Jordan's skill seemed effortless, as though his connection to his Pokémon went beyond commands and strategies. He saw the trust, the synchronicity, the mutual respect Jordan shared with each of his Pokémon, and he envied it. No amount of money or training seemed to create that kind of bond. He had strong Pokémon—the best money could buy, he reminded himself—but they were just tools to him, weapons to wield in battle. He hadn't invested time or genuine care into understanding them.

His parents didn't help either. They told him he was exceptional, that he was destined to be a champion, but it all felt hollow now. Their support was more about family pride and status than about his actual growth or dreams. They never understood why he felt the need to beat Jordan, why this rivalry gnawed at him so deeply.

As he sat there, Brenden felt a rush of anger, not just at Jordan but at himself. What am I doing wrong? He watched the screen where Jordan's Infernape stood victorious, its blue flames fading as it glanced back at its trainer with almost fierce loyalty. He felt a pang of something he didn't want to admit—envy. He wanted that connection, that level of respect from his Pokémon, but he didn't know how to get it.

The rational part of him knew what he needed to do. He had to train harder and put in the time, effort, the care that Jordan seemed to invest without hesitation. But it was hard and frustrating, and nothing about it came naturally to him. As much as he hated to admit it, Jordan's success wasn't just luck; it was earned. And that truth stung more than any taunt or whisper ever could.

Brenden took a deep breath, steeling himself. Fine, he thought. If they want to compare me to Jordan, I'll give them a reason. I'll get stronger. I'll prove I'm just as capable. But even as he made that promise to himself, a shadow of doubt lingered.