Chapter 1: The Day the Egg Arrived
Pallet Town was quiet that morning, the kind of soft silence only summer could bring. Warm sun filtered through the trees and bathed the small cottages in gold, birds chirping a lazy rhythm from the branches above. Ciel Cross sat on the edge of a white wooden fence outside his home, legs swinging gently, his dark eyes scanning the clear sky.
He liked mornings like this. Peaceful. Familiar. He didn't understand why, but something about the quiet always calmed him. Maybe it was the faint hum of wind through the grass. Maybe it was the way the air smelled after a night of light rain. Or maybe it was something else, something deeper.
His mother stepped outside, her smile warm as always. She was a petite woman with long black hair pulled into a loose bun, and a soft Gardevoir followed behind her, the Pokémon's eyes shimmering with gentle psychic energy.
"Ciel," she called. "Come inside, sweetheart. We have something for you."
Curious, Ciel jumped off the fence and followed her in. Their house smelled like breakfast—toast, eggs, and something sweet. But what caught his eye wasn't the food.
It was the soft, glowing egg cradled in a plush cushion on the living room table.
His father stood next to it, grinning proudly. "Happy birthday, champ."
Ciel blinked. "Birthday?"
His mother giggled, stepping beside him and resting her hands on his shoulders. "You turn nine today, remember? And we thought it was time. Time you had your first partner."
She gestured toward the egg. "This little one is from Gardevoir. She wanted her child to go to you. Said she sensed something."
Gardevoir gave a serene nod, eyes shimmering with pride.
Ciel stepped closer, drawn to the quiet psychic hum of the egg. The shell shimmered faintly with a calming energy, as if welcoming him. The moment he laid a hand on its smooth surface—
Pain. Light. Noise. So much noise.
Memories. Flooding. Drowning.
A car screeching. His body breaking. Cold. Screaming. Then silence. A void of stars and echoes. A sea of discarded dreams and shattered worlds. Floating. Waiting. Searching.
Two lights.
Two vials.
He drank.
Home.
Growth.
And then—
Ciel.
He gasped and fell to his knees. His mother rushed forward, catching him, but his eyes were wide. Everything. Everything came back.
His death. His past life. His second chance.
And this world.
This beautiful, vibrant, new world.
Tears welled up in his eyes, cascading down his cheeks in silent rivers. But alongside the tears was a bright, radiant smile. It wasn't sadness—it was release. Relief. Joy. A lifetime of sorrow washed away in a single moment of truth.
His parents watched him, concerned and unsure, but Gardevoir tilted her head slightly, her gaze gentle and understanding, as though she saw something they could not.
"I'm... home," Ciel whispered, voice trembling but steadying with each word. He looked down at the egg in his hands and hugged it to his chest. "I didn't think I'd ever get something like this again. Thank you... so much."
His mother hugged him tightly, rubbing his back as if trying to soothe the sudden, intense emotion. "You scared us, hon. Are you sure you're alright?"
He nodded into her shoulder, feeling the warmth of her arms and the sincerity of her worry. His father came over and placed a strong hand on his head, ruffling his hair gently.
"You've always had a gentle heart, son," his father said, kneeling beside him. "And now, someone special chose you—because they saw that, too. I think... you're meant to do something incredible."
Ciel swallowed hard and smiled through the tears.
---
The days passed slowly, and Ciel adjusted. It was strange being a child again—shorter legs, smaller hands, but a mind sharpened by memory and rebirth. He didn't question the second chance he had. Not anymore. Instead, he embraced it.
He spent hours reading, writing, planning.
He wanted to be ready for Ralts.
But he wanted more than just knowledge. Deep in his heart, Ciel felt something stir—the [Essence of Ideal Growth] was active now, resonating gently within him. His curiosity flared.
Could he use Psychic power too?
With careful focus, he meditated each night in secret. At first, there was nothing but silence. Then—after a few days—came a whisper. A flicker of light behind his closed eyes. A breeze without wind.
One night, while sitting cross-legged on the floor of his room with a spoon balanced before him, he reached out—not with his hands, but with thought. He focused on the space between himself and the spoon, imagining it floating, light as a feather.
Nothing happened.
He focused again, visualizing the threads of psychich energy reaching out and wrapping around the spoon. A gentle warmth pulsed in the back of his mind, and then—
The spoon trembled.
Just a twitch. But it was enough.
Ciel's eyes widened. A grin slowly formed on his face.
He continued practicing over the next several nights. No grand feats of power yet, but he could sense things—his parents' moods, Gardevoir's pride, even the flickering heartbeat inside the egg. His psychic sense was like a muscle, slowly waking up.
It was weak, yes. But it was his.
But, it would Grow.
---
The egg hatched a week later.
A soft hum echoed through his room as he watched the shell crack and split under the soft moonlight. A tiny Ralts emerged, blinking up at him with wide, curious red eyes.
The bond was instant.
Ciel sat completely still, watching as the newborn Ralts wobbled slightly on tiny feet. It looked up at him with uncertainty. Sensing the hesitation, Ciel closed his eyes and focused.
He gathered the joy he felt—deep, full, unconditional—and pushed it outward, projecting the feeling with all his might.
Glad to have you partner.
For a moment, the world stood still.
Ralts flinched slightly, surprised by the sudden emotional wave, then blinked up at him. Its eyes widened with understanding, and then it gave a soft, chirping sound that felt like laughter in his mind.
Ciel smiled, eyes misty, and opened his arms.
Ralts toddled forward and curled up in his lap, resting its head against his chest. It let out a sleepy sigh, content.
As he held the little Pokémon close, Ciel felt a warm pulse ripple between them—his psychic ability resonating with Ralts's. The connection wasn't just emotional; it was mental, spiritual. They were truly partners now.
"I promise," Ciel whispered, "I'll protect you. We'll explore this world together. And no matter where we go, I'll be there for you."
The little Ralts chirped again and nuzzled closer.
---
That night, Ciel dreamed.
He stood not in his room, but on the edge of a floating island, stars hanging in the sky like lanterns. A warm breeze carried the scent of pine and fresh water. Beneath him, clouds drifted lazily, glowing faintly with moonlight.
Behind him stood a cozy cottage, warmly lit from the inside. Its design was quaint—wooden walls, stone chimney, flower boxes in the windows. Nearby, a peaceful pond shimmered beneath the starlight, its waters flowing into a narrow stream that meandered toward a gentle waterfall.
As he stepped forward, he saw that the waterfall emptied into another floating island far below, one covered in dense forest. In the distance, more islands floated silently—each one shaped like a different biome: a snowy peak, a sunlit desert, a field of flowers, a cave-ringed hill, and more.
The air itself felt alive, as if the realm recognized him. Welcomed him.
This was his home.
Not in Pallet Town. Not in Kanto.
But his home.
The [Essence of the Home] had awakened.
As he stepped across the grass toward the cottage door, it opened on its own.
Inside, a fire crackled in a stone hearth. Shelves lined the walls, already filled with books and trinkets that felt right—items from both this life and the one before. A notebook with his old handwriting. A mug shaped like a Poké Ball. A photo of people he couldn't quite remember but whose faces brought him peace.
He took a deep breath.
"I'm home," he said aloud, his voice steady.