This is a story about random conspiracy that starts out as mundane and ordinary-ness so that you want to fall asleep.

I wrote this out of boredom, and the desire to test out an OT story and play with someone's fate. xD

Rated K+, really, but T for...I really don't know. Just in case?

I don't own Pokemon.

Codename

"Raptor, sir…They're on the move."

The shadowy figure stirred in response, gave a brief nod at the woman dressed in purple and black standing before him.

A computer screen pulsed with light, red arrows flickering and pointing to various colored dots moving across a picture of a map.

"I see. Hoenn, isn't it?"

"That's right. We should send someone. It wouldn't do for Team Magma or Aqua to be revived into something more deadly."

"That wouldn't do at all," agreed the man airily, leaning back in his chair. "But aren't Osprey and Kingfisher already in the region? And of course…" He paused before saying the third name. "Redstart is there as well."

"They are, but…the best one for the immediate job is undoubtedly Oriole. We have already deployed that agent and are awaiting first reports. "

"That one? Kind of young, wouldn't you say?"

"We will have Oriole posing as a challenger for the Hoenn league." Her voice became foggy with nostalgia. "There's nothing that sparks growth like a journey with Pokemon, right? And Oriole is more than competent."

"Yes," he agreed, laughing softly. "You could call it that."

Before he woke up from a gray-tinged exhausted doze, Beck had a nightmare about birds.

He was flying high in the broad cerulean sky, flapping his wings along with his other bird friends—Pidgeys, Swablus, Tallows—when a terrible storm converged upon them all. Black storminess swallowed up the blue heavens and thunder roared terribly, echoing off mountain spires. Lightning cut harshly through inky black clouds, lightning that quickly formed into blades, blades that quickly impaled and sliced the birds from the sky. Feathers and crimson rained down through the air, cries and wails of horror.

He was among the ones that fell towards the cold earth so far below, wings broken and mangled, crying out for help that wouldn't come. After all, who would lift a finger for a bunch of mere birds?

Just as he was about to hit the ground in red-tinted impact, Beck shot awake in his bed. He was breathing rapidly and lightly, feeling rather dizzy at having experienced that uncomfortable jolt of that falling sensation. For a moment, the boy stared at the ceiling, before straightening and wearily glancing out the window. It was dark.

He looked over at his alarm clock which read an unpleasantly early number. He sighed, as he realized exactly what day it was and how pointless it would be to attempt to go back to sleep because of that.

It was the Day. The Day he got his first Pokemon and went on The Journey to become a Pokemon Trainer. Or, for dramatic effect or ego-boosting reasons—The Pokemon Trainer. The chance to become…The Champion. The Ultimate Pokemon Trainer.

Something of that sort.

After a few minutes or a few years, the details of his nightmare and the half-asleep fogginess in Beck's head gradually melted away like mist in sunshine and excitement from the day before filled him again—the excitement that had kept him wide-awake and away from sleep for much of the night. He was going on a Pokemon Journey.

Like another repetition of those same words suddenly filled him with fuel, Beck pranced out of bed, flying towards his closet. He slammed open the sliding door with much more force than necessary, almost knocking a picture frame off an adjacent shelf. He grabbed at where his clothes awaited, swinging violently from the hangars with the force the door opening, like they were just as impatient as he to be gone.

It was early, yes, but he might as well get going now.

Beck pulled a pair of white denim shorts on first, and then followed up with a T-shirt the shade of indigo midnight with a Pokeball insignia slapped on the front. His backpack was already packed. Beck paused, thought for a moment, and then slipped a sweater in as well. It was the latter end of summer as of now, the days still too hot to even contemplate sweaters, but winter weather had a habit of striking suddenly and savagely and all that.

He hated the cold.

With that done, Beck wheeled into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He took a moment afterwards, to tousle his pillow-pummeled platinum blonde hair into a more presentable state of messiness and attempted to rub the sleep-deprived dullness out of his burnished teal eyes. Satisfied that his appearance was acceptable enough, the boy snatched up his traveling belongings and headed towards the stairs.

With bag slung over his shoulders, Beck slowed his pace enough to walk like a civilized person. He was intercepted by a younger girl regarding him sleepily from the bottom of the stairs, still in her pajamas. Her hair was a much brighter, clearer shade of blond than his, shimmering like curled gold. Their mother often jokingly told him that he'd better watch out when they grew up—a lot of boys would come after his pretty little sister and it would be his job to defend her from the bad ones.

"Why are you up so early, Risa?" Beck asked, petting her on the head affectionately. "It's not even six."

His younger sister stubbornly stifled a yawn. "I'm not tired!" she exclaimed, like his comment was an accusation. "I heard you banging stuff in your room so I got up. And if I slept in, I would have missed you going away. Because…I knew you were gonna get up early so I did, too!"

Beck laughed, giving her a light shove towards the kitchen. "I wouldn't have left without saying goodbye, silly. Although since now that you're up, I can say goodbye right now so I don't have to come back later just to do that." Risa frowned and crossed her arms. Beck chuckled. "I just want to get my Starter first as soon as possible."

The thought of Pokemon wiped away the childish pout and tiredness on Risa's face. "What kind of Pokemon are you getting?" she asked eagerly, as they entered the kitchen. The smell of cooking drifted over—for their mother was an early bird too— but Beck wasn't hungry. He didn't like eating as soon as he got up.

"I'm thinking of…a Fire-type," Beck said, in response to his sister's question.

"Fire? Ha, Fire stinks," Risa declared triumphantly, as she sat down at the table. "Zuri could beat any Fire-type Pokemon!"

"Yes, but that's because Zuri is Water," he replied patiently, reminding himself to also say goodbye to Risa's cherished Marill before he left. "And I'm planning to challenge Wattson first, because—well, we live in Mauville so I don't have to go far, right off the bat. He's giving me my Starter today," Beck added.

"Wattson is giving you your first Pokemon?"

"That's right." Their father and Wattson had been good friends, and for the boy's tenth birthday, the Gym Leader decided to personally present him with Hoenn's official Starters along with other choices to start him on his journey. Beck had decided his first goal was to prove himself worthy to their family's close friend, by taking the Dynamo Badge.

Risa made a face. "I don't need him to give me my first Pokemon. I have Zuri. And because you choose a Fire-type, I'll beat you up when I get my Trainer License!"

Beck laughed and pretended to concede defeat. Just then, their mother arrived from the kitchen.

"Good morning! Risa, I know you want to say goodbye to your brother, but you have to go back to bed afterwards, okay? And…ah, Beck!" she cried joyfully. "Today's the day we kick you out of the house, huh?"

"Right," he laughed, accepting the hug she offered.

His mother nodded thoughtfully. "…do me a favor before you go, won't you, Beck?"

The boy blinked, as his mother handed him a small pendent. It was a little crimson glass marble on a red piece of yarn, a trinket he sometimes stumbled upon in Zuri's secret stash of stolen treasures. Risa wore a matching blue one around her neck.

Beck understood immediately.

"I'll visit him before I leave," Beck promised, cupping his hand away from Risa so she couldn't see the pendant. His mother smiled bravely, nodded.

Beck approached his sister and spread out his arms. Risa glared at him sullenly for a moment before burying herself into his chest.

"Big brother better come back a lot," she mumbled, "Or else me and Zuri will be mad at you."

"Of course," Beck said brightly, patting her pretty blonde hair. "I'll bring you back something whenever I come back."

She brightened, like that made it all okay. "Okay! Bye-bye!"

"See you soon."

Their mother waited until Beck had put the pendant in a pocket before steering him to the exit.

"Off you go!" she called with enthusiasm like she was the one going on the Pokemon journey. "I know you're excited and all, but be careful and visit often!"

She even gave him a shove out the door, like by doing so she helped ignite him into success. The boy laughed and took a moment to wave at Zuri who was shuffling outside, before walking cheerily towards the Mauville Gym. The sky had lightened a few shades, was now the color of dark wet cement. The air smelled of damp grass and night dew.

Quiet birdsong vibrated through the slumbering city, and Beck was suddenly reminded of some dream he had. Something about birds. The boy paused, but he couldn't remember it, so he stopped thinking of it.

His mind turned instead to his future Gym Battle. He was planning on choosing a Fire-type because he knew Wattson liked using his Magnemite and Magneton to mess with people—with Magnet Rise, that was. The move that provided immunity to Ground attacks seemed an obvious choice for someone who ran an Electric-type Gym. Beck found Fire-types the most fascinating, too, with their rarity and their strength and beauty. In terms of power, few matched them, and he thought one would make a great partner for battle.

It didn't take Beck long to reach the doors of the large shining building and streak through them like a swift Linoone.

"I'm here!" he called cheerily into the Gym, almost smashing face-first into one of the electric force-field-fence-things that Wattson riddled the place with. The Gym was brightly lit as always, but deserted, silent except for the soft hum of background electricity and the gurgling of generators. It was too early in the morning for the Gym Trainers to have gathered.

The silence was abruptly broken, however, by the Gym's single occupant. Wattson's hearty laughter echoed through the chamber as he materialized from some stairs. "Ah! Beck!" he boomed, eyes twinkling with all the affection of a grandfather. "Just in time—or rather early as you always are. But you're in luck, because I still get up earlier than anyone else!"

He let out another series of laughter that Beck smiled at but didn't have the energy to join in, as it was still really too early in the morning. Wattson chuckled a few more times before making a come here gesture. "I've got your Pokemon ready. Choose well!"

Beck hurried after him, forcing his thoughts to gather. He was lead to a table with almost a dozen Pokeballs scattered over it, each with a note card marked with a Pokemon's name. Beck skipped over the first three standing at the front and took his time looking through the rest.

Beck released some of the Pokemon from their capsules, greeted them, examined them, talked to them. He spent a lot of time on the pure Fire-types, but pointedly ignored the pure Ground-types.

He examined a Vulpix critically, eyeing her over. She was beautiful and dignified and part of Beck could imagine having the graceful creature lope into battle as a brilliant Ninetales, throwing rings of fire into the air. But…statistically, that evolutionary family was too fragile for his tastes—fast and powerful but delicate, something that could dish it out but couldn't take it. Beck wanted his Starter to be steadier, reliable and patient, even if less outright graceful than a Ninetales.

Beck was slightly interested in the Ponyta, but she was not interested in him, at all. The fiery horse gave him a distasteful look and turned away immediately, as though by his appearance alone she could tell that he was a horrible person who would end up getting the two of them killed in some distant jungle somewhere. A Rapidash wasn't the highest one on his list either though, so Beck did not push the issue and moved on.

He took a brief look at the standard Torchic next, but he returned it to its Pokeball soon after. No matter which way he turned it in his head, the Fire Hoenn Starter simply did not appeal to Beck in terms of fighting style either—trading in the speed of Ninetales for more sheer power, but still not much less fragile.

There wasn't a Growlithe. That was a fairly sturdy and also extremely powerful Pokemon that he had hoped would be an option…there was nothing Beck could do about that, though.

He was about to give up with the idea of beating Wattson right off the bat with a Fire-type, when he spotted one other note card, sitting inconspicuously in the middle of the mass of capsules. It read: "Numel".

Wattson had been standing in the back and doing his best to not be obstructive, but now he raised an eyebrow as Beck reached for the Pokeball.

Numels were Fire and Ground, which would be completely perfect for dealing with Wattson. But…

The boy could practically feel Wattson's eyes focus intently on him and he himself could list all the reasons to not choose a completely common Pokemon probably caught fresh off the Jagged Pass. The first reason was just that: Numels were common and he could catch one himself, later. They were unpopular because they were so painfully slow and stubborn at times, were used as beasts of burden—being more suited to plowing a farm than fighting a battle. And of course, they had been a favorite of the infamous Team Magma, who had once prowled the region with their insidious plots.

Everything was telling him to put the Pokeball back without even seeing what was inside of it, but Beck tossed the capsule on the ground anyways. The Pokemon which came out of it was just as expected. A small, round yellow creature speckled with misshapen green blotches that regarded him with dull, lethargic eyes. The Numel made a low sound akin to a depressed Miltank and looked away from Beck upon meeting his gaze—though in a less blatantly hostile way than the Ponyta.

"Hi," Beck offered. He received no reply. Numel seemed to have taken a great deal of interest in the floor. Behind it, Wattson crossed his arms, an unreadable expression in his normally merry eyes.

Beck attempted to make eye contact with the Pokemon again, but the Numel merely touched his snout to the ground and examined the tiles dully.

The boy sighed, shook his head, about to lift the Pokeball and withdraw the Numel. He had given him a chance, after all. It was a Pokemon that he really wouldn't even bother to catch if he spotted it around Mount Chimney. It looked weak, with less potential than the standard Starter.

Than make him strong, a voice in Beck's head said, more in command than suggestion. If you call yourself someone who's going to aim for the League, than you should have the heart and skill to raise anything into something powerful.

Beck paused. The imaginary voice that was probably his conscious most likely pitied the little Numel, who would not be selected by anyone else. But his subconscious did have a point—every Pokemon had potential and it was a Trainer's job to bring that out to its fullest.

Beck swept his gaze over the remaining other Pokeballs. They were fairly commonly used Pokemon—an Abra, a Tallow, a Pikachu. All, of course, had the prospective of becoming strong. But it would be safer to stick with one of them, or to choose the standard Starter.

Beck sighed and withdrew the Numel.

Wattson merely grinned, as easygoing as ever, as the boy approached him with the Numel's Pokeball. Beck leaned back on his heels, examining the capsule in his hand. It wasn't too late to put it back and take his time picking something else, something that would be looked at and approved by most Trainers. Something safer.

But Beck wasn't too interested in safety.

"Interesting choice, but you always surprise me," the Gym Leader commented, as he handed Beck his Trainer Card and four empty Pokeballs. The boy gazed at the first item in awe. His full name was written on it in official-looking print: "Beck Middell".

Reverently, he slipped the card and the Pokeballs into his backpack, putting them in the front pocket where they could be easily accessed.

"Well, off you go. See you soon!" Wattson winked as Beck slipped out the door, seeming perfectly aware of the boy's intention to challenge him first. The boy smiled to himself.

As soon as he got outside, Beck couldn't suppress curiosity any longer and sent out his new Pokemon.

"Hi there," he told the Numel immediately, attempting to sound as upbeat and cheerful as possible. "I'm your Trainer now, so let's work hard."

The Numel stared at him. Beck stared back, attempting to imitate his unblinking dullness but only ending up with watering eyes.

"Alright," said Beck, wondering if he was beginning to regret this already. "Let's start with names. I'm Beck. If you're interested."

The Numel stared at him, in a decidedly uninterested manner. Great.

Beck tried again. "So…Do you want a nickname?"

He thought the Pokemon was going to express more lack of reaction, but instead, the Numel nodded slowly.

"Nickname," the boy mused, putting a hand to his lips thoughtfully, "I'm not very good with nicknames."

His Pokemon continued to stare at him, in a patient manner that suggested that he was willing to wait there while Beck thought up of something creative.

"Um…" He began to list random terms having to do with fire, hoping to stumble across an interesting sounding one. "Lava? …Eruption? Magma?"—that one was a bad idea—, "Um…Rocky…no that's really bad…rocks…metamorphic? Igneous? Sedi—Igneous?" Beck watched the Numel's reaction carefully. The Pokemon's eyes were blank.

"How about that? 'Igneous'?"

The Numel seemed to give a shrug and Beck decided that "Igneous" had a cool enough ring to it to be acceptable.

"So what do you want to do first?"

No answer from the Numel now named Igneous.

Beck sighed.

The white cloth was really not all that noticeable; it was half-hidden in the draping cloak of leaves, but still a brilliant beacon to Beck. He approached the magnificent oak quietly, halting at the roots.

"Hey Dad," he said softly to the tree, or more specifically, the cloth tied to the top branches of the tree. It looked like something torn from a bedsheet, one that had been cleaned impeccably so that it shone pure white without a single fleck of dirt on it.

Beck had been four and a half, and his father half a year gone to some mission or assignment in some distant region, when his mother told the boy to put up the cloth.

"This is a signal to Daddy," she had said, hiding her face from him. "He won't be…coming back to see us anymore…but if you put this somewhere high I'm sure he'll see it looking down from wherever he is. This way, he'll always know where we are."

His father had been a Pokemon Ranger, a job that Beck now knew to be sometimes extremely dangerous.

The boy gestured over to his Pokemon, and the Numel approached the roots curiously.

"I'm starting on my Pokemon Journey today," Beck told the cloth and the person who was supposed to be looking down on the cloth. "This is my partner, Igneous."

The Numel sniffed at the tree trunk and Beck continued. "Mom told me you were a great Trainer, so I'm hoping some of that is passed down to me. She won't say it, but I know she doesn't want me to get into any trouble. I'll do my best." Beck paused and having nothing else to say, he declared. "I'll make you proud, Dad."

Beck got on the very tips of his toes and managed to snag the pendant his mother gave him, onto one of the lower branches of the tree. It swung in the wind, the little marble flashing like laughter and Beck imagined that to be the approving eyes of a person. The pendant had been apparently given to him by his father, though Beck didn't remember exactly when. He was supposed to leave it there, to tell his dad he was leaving.

With that, he turned and began walking, feeling a bit more optimistic and upbeat with his father's invisible blessing bestowed on him. Beck did not really remember the man who was his father—all he had were foggy images of a person with the same hair as his, smiling, laughing, romping with Pokemon. His father's absence did not really tear a hole into the family; on the contrary, his mother was cheerful and loving enough to both of her children for them to almost not notice the subtle empty gap in their lives, going about it with a kind of strength Beck now understood enough to admire.

Igneous nosed him, and Beck looked down. The Numel was holding a Berry in his mouth and was chewing on it.

"Where did you get that?" Beck asked, laughing. Igneous swallowed.

The boy patted the Pokemon on the head and this time, Igneous did not look away like he was disappointed with life.

Feeling as though he had made great progress already, Beck headed outside the town, confident that nothing in the world could go wrong.

Standing silently behind the tree, a figure was quietly observing the boy walk away. He watched the red marble on the pendant swing in the breeze, and chuckled, the sound low and muted by the sullen wind. "Watch out for the birds, Beck. Or else your world will be quickly broken."

.

And that's the introduction of Beck, a random OT, whom you may or may not care about. You'll be seeing a lot of him, though. The conspiracy has begun. Do you see it yet? *dramatic music*

Yeah not really. I fail at conspiracy. But still!

On that cryptic note, thanks for reading and have a nice day~! ^.^