Ash's POV
Morning came with golden sunlight and the smell of fresh parathas.
The Ketchum Estate was peaceful again—at least on the surface. You'd never guess from the quiet laughter and soft clinking of dishes that just hours ago, half the family had stormed a military facility like an army of gods.
But that was how the Ketchums were. Strong in war. Loud in peace.
Ash sat at the long dining table between Gary—who was pretending to read a book while sneakily tossing berries to his Squirtle—and Iris, who had her head resting in her palm while Axew tried to steal pieces of fruit from her plate.
Across the table, Uncle Andrew was getting doted on like a war hero and hospital patient rolled into one.
"Slowly," his wife said, cutting his roti into smaller pieces and holding it up like he might forget how to chew. "You're still healing."
Andrew, bruised and bandaged but grinning like a fool, opened his mouth obligingly. "Yes, ma'am."
Ash hid a snort behind his cup.
Freya didn't bother hiding anything. She sat with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face.
"If they get any sappier, I'm throwing them both out the window," she muttered, loud enough for the whole table to hear.
Lorelei groaned and thumped her forehead on the table. "How are they this sweet and this annoying at the same time?"
Lance, stoic as ever, muttered, "It's the marital buff. It's a known phenomenon."
"Don't get used to it," Cynthia added from further down the table, sipping her tea without looking up. "They're still acting like newlyweds."
That earned a few chuckles, even from Andrew's wife—who finally, reluctantly, stopped spooning yogurt into her grown husband's mouth.
Ash shook his head with a smile. This... this was what it meant to be safe. To be home. But the feeling didn't last long.
Because that was when Elder Noah stood up.
"All right," the old man called, his voice cutting clean through the room like a blade. "Ash. Iris. Gary. Lance. Lorelei. You five, with me."
The table fell silent.
Ash blinked and sat up straighter. Pikachu perked up on his shoulder, cheeks crackling lightly with static.
"Yes, Elder!" they chorused in various degrees of discipline.
The five of them followed Elder Noah down the long hallway, past sleeping Houndoom, polished family portraits, and echoing marble floors that whispered old secrets.
Finally, they stopped at a heavy double door.
The elder didn't say anything—just placed his hand against the frame.
The doors bloomed open, as if reacting to his Aura.
Ash stepped inside... and stopped dead.
The room beyond was huge—vaulted ceilings, sunlight pouring in from angled glass panels, and shelf after shelf of materials that sparkled like treasure hoards.
Ash's heart jumped.
He recognized them.
Not all, but enough to feel like he'd stepped into the game screen of some long-forgotten Poké Mart.
There—a Big Nugget nestled between some berries.
To the right—Apricorns, red, blue, black—ready to be shaped into Poké Balls.
On a pedestal—a Miracle Seed, glowing faintly green, pulsing with life.
He passed by what looked like a Sharp Beak, some Mystic Water, and even a set of elemental flutes—glass-thin and color-coded.
The room practically buzzed with energy, like everything in it had its own Aura signature.
Elder Noah turned with a smirk and gestured to a central table where five beautifully crafted spherical containers were arranged—like ancient artifacts and modern technology merged into one.
"These," he said, "are your Containment Spheres."
He picked one up—a deep red casing with gold lines coiling across the surface like veins of power—and handed it to Ash.
"They'll adapt to your Aura signature. Just focus on your bond with the Extradimensional, and it'll sync naturally."
Ash took it reverently. The moment his fingers touched it, he felt a pulse—not mechanical. Not magical either.
Living.
Like the sphere was part of him now.
Gary was already examining his with sharp, calculating eyes. He turned the sphere over in his hands, studying its metallic red surface and faint golden etchings.
"These aren't like the green ones we used before," he muttered. "The structure's sleeker. Denser. New core?"
Elder Noah nodded, clearly pleased. "Good eye. These are the newest generation—Ketchum-forged, as always. Reinforced shell, faster sync rates, and near-zero Aura bleed. They're not made often, but for you five? It's time."
Lorelei's eyes gleamed. "So they're... heirloom tech?"
"In a sense. Every one of these was crafted from materials bonded by Extradimensionals over generations. This isn't mass production—this is legacy in your hands."
Ash turned his own sphere slowly, fingers tracing the grooves. It practically hummed in his grip, alive and expectant.
Elder Noah gave him a sideways glance, then smirked.
"And would you look at that? You've somehow convinced half the family to stop calling them Extradimensionals and start saying Pokémon. Even the spheres—Poké Balls, is it?"
Ash gave a sheepish smile. "It's easier to say."
"Easier, sure. But now the younger kids think 'Miracle Seed' and 'King's Rock' are actual technical terms."
"I mean... they kind of are now."
Pikachu snorted from Ash's shoulder, clearly proud.
Noah shook his head, chuckling under his breath. "You've branded an entire generation, boy."
The others laughed—Gary looked slightly annoyed that Ash had dictated the new norm, while Iris and Lance found it hilarious. Lorelei muttered something about trademarking the term.
Then Noah's tone shifted, becoming more serious.
"Names aside, remember this: what matters is the bond you share with your partners. Whether you call them Pokémon or something else—these creatures trust you. Never break that trust."
He stepped back and gestured to the glowing array of relics and items behind him.
"Each of you may choose two. Only two. The ones that resonate with your Aura. Choose wisely—these will shape your journey."
Ash's heart thudded as the five of them stepped forward. The room pulsed with quiet energy—golden seeds, shining stones, whispering flutes, shimmering apricorns. All from this world... and yet, he recognized them all.
Ash moved slowly through the chamber, the hum of legacy and power thick in the air. The room wasn't loud, but it felt alive—like the walls were watching, like the artifacts remembered every hand that had ever touched them.
Gary was already absorbed with a crystalline circuit board pulsing with static light. Iris stood near a vine-wrapped stone that curled around her fingers like it knew her. Lance had gravitated toward something edged in fire.
But Ash... he wasn't sure what he was looking for.
His fingers brushed over a silver feather, a cracked flute, a hunk of glimmering ore—all powerful, all storied. But none of them stirred his heart.
Until he saw it.
Nestled between a blackened mirror and a bowl of old, cracked apricorns was a stone the color of twilight—midnight blue, with ripples of violet and shadows moving inside it, like something was waiting.
He reached for it.
The moment his fingertips brushed its surface, a pulse ran up his arm—cool, heavy, not frightening, but final. Like the hush before a storm. The shadows inside the stone swirled faster in response to his touch.
Ash sucked in a breath. "Dusk Stone," he whispered. "For Ghost-types... for evolution."
Pikachu chirped lowly from his shoulder, sensing the shift in energy.
He didn't even hesitate. This felt right. He pocketed the stone, his heart still thrumming.
Then he saw the second item.
At first glance, it looked like a broken piece of armor—a jagged shoulder plate, obsidian black, resting on a rusted pedestal. No glow. No shine.
But it breathed.
It didn't pulse like the Dusk Stone did. No—this was heavier. Meaner. Like it resented being touched.
The air around it felt colder, like anger lived in it.
Ash shouldn't have stepped closer. He shouldn't have reached for it.
But something about it was... familiar.
From the games maybe. Something he couldn't name.
He grasped the edge of the plate.
Pain flared—sharp, real, cutting through his palm like glass. Pikachu yelped, sparks flying.
"Ash!" someone called from behind—Lorelei, maybe—but he didn't let go.
The pressure vanished just as quickly as it had come.
And when he looked again, the armor wasn't cold. It was... waiting.
Tamed. For now.
Ash lifted it into the crook of his arm, and this time, the energy inside felt restrained. Like a monster on a leash.
Elder Noah approached, watching with a deep furrow in his brow. "That piece was found decades ago," he said quietly. "It belonged to someone... consumed. We never knew what type of energy lived in it. None of us could bond with it."
Noah studied him a moment longer, then nodded once. "Be careful, Ash. Some power doesn't need to be feared... but it must be respected."
Ash gave a small nod and looked down at his new items—his Dusk Stone, swirling with evolutionary potential... and a cursed armor plate that now pulsed faintly in sync with his heartbeat.
Pikachu leaned against his neck and growled softly at the dark item.
"I know," Ash whispered. "But I think I'll need it someday."
And deep down, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was right.
***
Later That Morning – Ketchum Estate Living Room
The sun filtered through the high windows, golden light casting warm shapes across the estate's expansive living room. Everyone was gathered—Elders, parents, cousins, siblings. The entire Ketchum bloodline humming with that rare, unified sense of peace... and preparation.
Ash, still holding the Dusk Stone in his pocket and the dark armor piece secured in a satchel across his shoulder, followed the others into the room with a lingering buzz of energy under his skin.
Elder Noah stood at the center, hands clasped behind his back, gaze sweeping across the younger generation with pride and gravity.
"You've all made your first bonds," he said. "You've chosen items that resonate with your Aura. Good. But let me ask you this..."
His eyes narrowed, testing.
"Do you know how to summon more of them?"
The room went quiet.
Lance stepped forward, voice confident, posture straight. "Once we've established a connection with Arceus's dimension—the realm where these beings dwell—we can summon more companions anywhere. But only if we've attuned our Summoning Ritual Rings."
Ash's eyes flicked to him.
That ring...
A memory surged forward—David, kneeling beside Ash's toddler self, a glimmering silver ring on his finger etched with tiny ancient runes. His father had shown it to him like a secret. A promise. One day, he'd said, this will let you call them to your side.
Elder Noah nodded approvingly. "Correct, Lance. Every Ketchum is gifted one after forming their first bond. It's not just jewelry—it's a gate. The ring responds to your Aura signature and opens the path. But you must maintain it. Fuel it. Protect it."
He turned toward the fireplace mantle and gestured. A series of velvet boxes floated forward—five in total. One landed in front of each of the newly bonded.
Ash opened his, revealing a ring of his own—dark steel, wrapped with golden filaments of aura-conductive script. The inside was smooth, warm. Alive.
"Welcome to the next stage," Elder Noah said, his voice low. "Now, your journey truly begins."
The rest of the week at the Ketchum Estate passed like a dream I didn't want to wake up from.
Days blurred together in the best way—morning training sessions with Gary, Lance, and the others, testing our new Poké Balls and learning to sync with our Aura rings. Uncle Marcus taught me how to read the subtle energy signatures that different Pokémon left behind, while Uncle Samuel showed me the proper stance for summoning rituals.
Afternoons were for mischief. Cynthia recruited me as her accomplice in an elaborate prank involving Freya's morning coffee and a carefully placed Chatot that had been trained to mimic her grumpy complaints. The look on Freya's face when her own voice started insulting her back from the coffee cup was worth the scolding we got later.
Evenings meant stories around the fire pit—Uncle Andrew, still bandaged but animated, telling tales of his first Pokémon encounters, while the younger cousins hung on every word. I found myself laughing harder than I had in months, Pikachu curled in my lap, purring like a contented cat.
For a week, I got to be just... family. Part of something bigger than myself, surrounded by people who understood the weight of what we carried and the joy of what we'd found.
But all good things had to end.
***
One Week Later – New Hope
We returned home quietly.
No teleport this time. Just a plane ride from Washington, followed by a silent car ride through the tree-lined roads that led to New Hope.
Our little house looked exactly as we'd left it—white stone, ivy-covered, and peacefully ordinary. The wind chimes on the porch jingled as if to say "welcome back," like nothing had changed.
But everything had.
Mom fussed over my wrinkled clothes the second we walked in, trying not to cry. Dad gave me a long look—the kind where a thousand questions sat behind his eyes but never reached his lips. He just patted my shoulder and ruffled Pikachu's fur.
We had dinner together that night. Quiet. Peaceful. Almost normal.
But I couldn't shake it.
While Mom and Dad laughed softly over dessert, while the lights flickered warm across the table, I sat there with a weight in my chest that refused to leave.
I knew better now.
This world wasn't safe—not really. Not for people like Uncle Andrew. Not for children born different. Not for anyone the world chose to fear.
And now I had the power to do something about it.
Later that night, I stood on the back porch, arms resting on the railing as the wind rustled through the trees. Pikachu curled around my neck like a scarf, quiet but alert.
I looked up at the stars.
The others had probably gone back to their lives. Iris to her books. Lance to his training. Gary was probably dissecting what had happened, making notes. Lorelei... well, she'd cry in private.
But me?
I couldn't go back to being just a kid.
Not anymore.
Not after what I'd seen. What we'd done.
"I've got power now," I whispered, my voice just loud enough for the wind. "Real power."
Pikachu stirred on my shoulder, ears twitching.
"I won't waste it."
Because this was the Marvel world.
And someone needed to fight for those who couldn't.
Even if it meant becoming something the world didn't understand.
Especially then.
"C'mon, partner," I said, turning back toward the house. "There's work to do."
And this time, I wouldn't look away.
***
Six Months Later
The summer sun beat down on the clearing behind our house, its rays filtered through a canopy of leaves that shimmered with heat. The grass had been flattened in patches—evidence of battles fought and refought, day after day.
I stood at the edge of the dirt circle, watching as Pikachu danced through a flurry of attacks, his movements faster than they'd ever been before.
Thunderbolt cracked through the air with pinpoint accuracy, blasting a practice dummy apart.
Iron Tail followed mid-spin, the silvery gleam of impact splitting a rock clean in half.
Pikachu landed gracefully, breathing hard, sparks still flickering off his cheeks.
"Not bad," I muttered, a grin tugging at my lips. "You're getting scary."
Six months.
Six months of waking up before dawn, of practicing movement drills in the fog, of studying Pokémon biology, aura pathways, and battle flow with Dad after dinner. Six months of learning what it meant to be a trainer—not the kind from a game or cartoon, but the real kind. A guardian.
Pikachu turned and gave a soft "Pika?"
I knelt down beside him, scratching just under his chin. "You've gotten strong, partner. Stronger than I ever imagined."
He nuzzled my palm in response.
I stood up slowly, wiping the sweat off my brow. My heart thudded in anticipation.
"I think it's time," I said aloud, almost to myself. "Time to meet the next one."
I walked back to the house and found Dad sitting on the back porch, repairing a fishing rod. He looked up as I approached.
"Dad," I said quietly, "can you watch over my next summoning?"
David Ketchum raised an eyebrow. Then, with that small, mysterious smile of his, he set the rod down and stood. "Of course."
We walked back out to the clearing together. Pikachu followed, tail flicking, already on edge.
David stood just outside the circle, arms folded, saying nothing—but I felt the calm strength in his presence.
I pulled the ring from my pocket—the same metallic band inscribed with glyphs that shimmered faintly in the light.
The clearing fell unnaturally quiet. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath. The trees around us leaned inward, as if drawn by some invisible force, their leaves rustling in a rhythm that matched my heartbeat.
Taking a deep breath, I placed the ring on my hand and felt the immediate surge of connection—not just to the metal, but to something vast and ancient beyond the veil of reality.
My aura rose, and the glyphs ignited like stars being born.
The air itself began to thicken, shimmering with heat distortion despite the evening cool. A low hum filled the space—not mechanical, but alive, like the breathing of some cosmic entity stirring from sleep.
My voice emerged, steady but reverent, carrying words that felt older than memory:
"Beyond the skies, through the folds of dimension, Where Arceus dreams the world awake— I reach for the one who stirs beside me, Who waits in shadow, patient and true. In truth and bond, in darkness and light— I choose you!"
The ring pulsed once—a heartbeat of pure energy that sent ripples through the air like disturbed water.
The wind shifted, but not naturally. It spiraled around us, carrying whispers of otherworldly voices and the scent of starlight and void.
Reality cracked.
A flash of light erupted before me—not white, but deep violet threaded with electric blue, colors that shouldn't exist in nature but felt hauntingly familiar. The very fabric of space seemed to tear open, revealing glimpses of an endless realm where physics bent and impossible geometries danced in eternal twilight.
The ground beneath my feet trembled, not with force, but with anticipation.
Pikachu's fur stood on end, sparks cascading from his cheeks as his instincts screamed warnings he couldn't understand. His tail shot up rigid, every muscle in his small body coiled for flight or fight.
David's eyes narrowed, his own aura flaring protectively around us both. "Ash, be careful" he said quietly.
From within the swirling glow, something began to emerge from the cosmic rift—a silhouette that defied easy description. Round, yes, but with an otherworldly smoothness that suggested it belonged more to dream than reality. Tendrils or spikes flared behind it like a crown of shadows, and as the light began to fade, two eyes opened within the darkness.
They burned.
Not with fire, but with the cold light…glowing and utterly alien.
And it was looking directly at me.
I took a step back, my heart hammering against my ribs like a caged bird, but I didn't break eye contact.
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A.N. I'm sorry the quality of the chapters has not been up to par. I got lazy and started giving excuses like it's my first time writing... It's okay if it's not good, no one's gonna read it seriously anyway, like this, I started uploading even through my busy schedule just to put a chapter out there, but I know that really affected my writing badly.
From now on, expect Chapters on Monday, Wednesday, Saturday, and maybe on Sunday. Like this, I can give time to myself but also put out quality chapters for you guys.
I hope you guys can review this Fanfic, it will really help me know how I am doing as a writer, and how you guys prefer in a Pokémon/Marvel Fanfic.
If you felt the Aura stir and shine,And walked these paths with Ash in line—Then lend your strength, just like before,With Power Stones to help us soar!