Seven years ago...

He was but ten year olds when they never came home. His parents, which on the news were announced dead, but he would not believe it and went into the Slumbering Weald to find them, refusing to accept the truth...

That child, age ten, never returned, and despite the search party lead by an up and coming trainer with a Charmeleon named Leon, was never found and announced dead as well...

Today two trainers, Hop and Victor, 15 year old boys, are endorsed by Leon to take on the gyms.

The same day their journey begins that lost child starts one of his own...

Grant, age 17, ran through the tall grass, his body battered and beaten, covered in brusises, for he had survived in the Wild Area of Galar off of what he could find and scavenge, no Pokémon or camping equipment, only a knife from the Boy Scouts he was in all those years ago and his wits.

Today was a bad day for him, his left arm was sliced open, bleeding with a severe gash after he was attacked by a wild Zigzagoon. He braced himself against a tree, his long black hair draped over his pale blue eyes which held an almost feral mindset of survival, as spending seven years running from dangerous Pokémon that would kill him for a meal had left him mentally damaged and emotionally stunted. He understood two things.

1: He had to become strong enough to survive.

2: He could not work his way into society unless he had a way to make money.

However he misunderstood one thing that would come back to bite him time and again on his journey.

3: To never accept help or pity and rely on one's self alone no matter what.

He had dealt with many injuries like this before, and at the river bank of Lake Outrage, harvested some herbs, crushing them into a fine powder and mixing them with the water to make a paste that he used as an ointment on his wound, a survival technique he learned in scouts all those years ago to disinfect wounds.

He sighed sitting at the bank and thought aloud, "Curse it all! A tiny Zigzagoon can spell the end of me and Arceus forbid I run into a Snorlax or Onix! I'm gonna die in this place! If I just had a Pokémon..."

He sighed and checked his pockets, finding some berries and a root, he started a fire using some stalks of tall grass and striking his knife against a stone to make sparks and roast the food on a wooden stick he found nearby, as he cooked it, he let his guard down, almost not caring is something snuck up on him and ate him, weary from his survival in this place when...

He put out the fire, letting the meal cool as he looked up at the skies in fear, recalling that day...

He didn't like to think of that incident and turned his attention to a chirping, a Rookiedee, who had taken an interest in the meal he had prepared. At first, knife drawn, he was ready to scare it away, or, if that didn't work, flee before it pecked his eyes out, but he saw himself in it. It was clearly the runt of the litter, probably from a nest with many eggs, and the weakest, frail and malnourished. He saw himself in it in a weird way. Without a parent or anyone else, just scrapping by by stealing from things far more powerful than either of them, and in a moment of compassion, he gently reached out to the bird as it nibbled an Oran Berry at the edge of the stick, pecking it timidly.

The bird fliched at first when it felt a hand scratching behind its neck, but it felt comforted by the human that had allowed it to eat and had extended his hand in friendship.

Sometimes a Pokémon will choose its trainer rather than the other way around.

The Rookiedee cried out, startling Grant who staggered back, ready for a fight, only to have the bird land on his shoulder and chirp happily.

He gently reached out to pet it, the creature tilting its head happily in response.

"I'm gonna call you Rook," he smiled.

Rook sang joyously.

Grant's mind raced.

He has a Pokémon.

No.

He had a friend.

He had a million ideas about what he could do now. He could defend himself and fight wild Pokémon for food, train his ally to actually thrive but...

No.

He wanted more.

He needed more.

He was tired of scrounging for scraps and decided...

He would become the strongest in all of Galar, so that he would be free from the life of scraping by that he had known so long.

He took a deep breath as he knew he needed a team. He checked his pockets once more and found a two Pokéballs, Net Balls he found dropped by some camper a week ago.

He held one up to Rook, who voluntarily went into the ball and gripped the other. He knew he needed something easy to raise and as he saw a monochromatic creature dashing through the grass towards him, smelling a meal.

The Zigzagoon approached and cried out. Grant sent out Rook, the bird eager to fight. He ordered Rook, "Don't faint it! We can't win alone!"

Rook took this advice and went in for a Peck, stabbing the wild creature through its thick, matted fur. In retaliation, the Zigzagoon used tackle, slamming rook into the ground as it cried out in pain.

Rook flew onto Grant's shoulder who comforted him, "It's OK that's enough."

He gripped the Net Ball and muttered, "God I hope this works..."

He three the ball, and it fell to the ground, the creature inside.

It shook violently once as the Zigzagoon thrashed about within.

It shook with less ferocity once more, the Zigzagoon seeming to tire out.

It shook a third time only slightly and...

Click.

He took up the Nest Ball and spoke to the Zigzagoon within, "You're mine now Kiss. Get it Rook? Like the band! Get-"

He looked at Rook and saw his wing, broken and twisted by the blow he took from his foe. He reached out to examine it, but in fear Room screeched a warning cry at Grant.

Grant sighed, "Curse it all. I guess I have no choice but to go into that town..."

Night began to fall as Grant entered the small town, Rook on his shoulder. He was given odd looks that he took as judgment, but which were actually concern for his injured arm and Pokémon as he walked past the fields of emerald green grass filled with grazing Wooloo to enter the Pokémon Center where Nurse Joy yelled on the phone, "This is the third outage this week! I can't treat these injured Pokémon or trainers if we can't keep the power on! I know there's an energy shortage shouldn't a hospital be priority for-"

Nurse Joy spotted the injured young and with worry in her voice explained, "Speaking of which I have to go."

Nurse Joy rushed over as Grant began to breath more heavily, blood loss getting to him as the intense movement required to travel such a distance reopened his wounds as he sat down.

"What happened to you?" She demanded.

"Look I don't have any money," Grant explained, "But Pokémon care is free right? Please you have to help Rook he broke his wing and-"

Nurse Joy ignored him and looked at his arm, covered in scars, long gashes and a couple of acid burns from attacks of poison type Pokémon.

"Acid burns, clear sighs of Zigzagoon and Linonne attacks, aren't those nocturnal? What are you doing out at night? Don't you know how dangerous the Wild Area is at those hours for unskilled trainers?" Nurse Joy demanded.

Grant sighed, "Most of those are old. Look help Rook or I'm going to have to find someone who can."

Nurse Joy sighed and took the small bird into the palm of her hands, "You're taking on the gym challenge aren't you? That's not an excuse to go after wild Pokémon you clearly can't defeat!"

"Oh I've overheard some campers discussing that," Grant replied, "Man I wish I could join but apparently you have to be born with a silver spoon up your-"

"Language!" Nurse Joy demanded, taking Rook over to a station to apply a potion to the injured area.

"Well that's the only way to qualify," Grant shrugged, "If I beat someone who's already endorsed to show I'm up for it..."

The bones heal rapidly thanks to the advanced medicine. Rook hops over to Grant, flying off the floor into the table next to him as Nurse Joy approaches, "Let me see your arm now."

Grant shook his head, "I'm broke. Don't worry about-"

"I took an oathe in medical school this one's on me," Nurse Joy replied forcefully grabbing Grant's arm to examine it.

"This is gonna sting," she warned preparing to apply stiches to the wound, "Try to focus on something else. Why not tell me about yourself?"

"Well I was born a bit south of here," Grant explained, "I've been broke for seven years and the only way for me to survive and get food was to scrounge in the Wild Area. I haven't had a home cooked meal in seven years and Rook here just sorta bonded to me. I can't take it anymore, Joy. I can't. Every night I close my eyes afraid some Linonne will slice my throat and eat me, or a Snorlax will sleep atop me, crushing me instantly. If there's any way for me to make a living this is it. This is my last chance to escape that life."

Nurse Joy looked Grant in the eye. She considered calling the authorities, not because he had done anything wrong, but because he was clearly not old enough to live alone and was homeless. She wanted to help him, but before she could act he got up and left quickly, "Thanks for your help. I appreciate it. See you later."

"Wait you can't-" Nurse Joy protested, but he was already out the door, looking at the night sky, the air chilled. Grant shivered as Rook flew beside him.

"Well Rook," he smiled, "Let's see if this plan actually works. We need to find a trainer who's already qualifies and make a scene."

It's then he overheard a young man in a pink jacket think aloud, "I was endorsed by Rose himself! I'm more improtant than anyone else in this!"

Grant approached with a smirk and asked, "Hey buddy, wanna test that?..."