Pokémon: Life Finds a Way

The weight of the discussions with Grandpa John still lingered in the back of my mind, but for now, I needed a distraction—a challenge to lose myself in. I glanced at the cluttered desk, the remnants of countless experiments, drafts, and blueprints strewn across it. It looked like a mess to anyone else, but to me, it was organized chaos. This was where I could think, and in the midst of all this clutter, I had an idea.

The idea had come to me one night, well past midnight, after one of my late-night study sessions. I had been researching the mechanics of Poké Balls—how they were able to store living creatures by manipulating space and energy within them. It made me wonder: if we could compress and store something as complex as a Pokémon, why couldn't we apply the same technology to inanimate objects? 

Why not create a portable storage solution? A capsule that could shrink objects down to a manageable size for easy transport. The idea was inspired by something that had always fascinated me from my childhood: Capsule Corp capsules. In the DBZ verse, they were small capsules that could contain anything from a house to a car. It wasn't just a fanciful idea—it was feasible. And if I could make it work, it would be revolutionary.

But there was still the matter of how to make it happen. The technology behind Poké Balls was based on advanced energy manipulation and space compression, designed to create a temporary "pocket" where Pokémon could be stored safely. But it wasn't a perfect system for non-living things. Objects, unlike Pokémon, didn't have a life force, an aura to stabilize the compression. There was the risk of damaging or breaking whatever was inside.

Still, my gut told me it was possible. After all, the Poké Ball was already based on the concept of shrinking and expanding at will. If I could adapt that technology, I might just have a chance.

I took a deep breath, my mind racing with possibilities, and began gathering my materials. I had a few Poké Balls that I'd modified for other experiments—some to test energy regulation, others to explore new methods of capture. But this time, I wasn't going to capture a living creature. This time, I was going to compress and store something completely different.

My tools were simple: small capsules, a power regulator, a compression device, and a few spare parts from previous experiments. It was a small-scale prototype, nothing too extravagant. I wasn't sure how it would turn out, but I had to try.

Golett was nearby, watching me as I set to work. I couldn't help but appreciate how quiet it was, how focused I could be in this space. Golett's presence wasn't distracting in the least—in fact, it was reassuring. It had quickly become an integral part of my daily life, a true companion in both work and solitude. I had grown fond of it, and its inquisitive nature often provided an unexpected spark of inspiration.

I set the first capsule on the workbench and attached the power regulator to it. My goal was simple: to replicate the same energy manipulation found in Poké Balls, but to control it in such a way that it could compress an object without damaging it. I activated the device, adjusting the settings as carefully as I could.

"If I could replicate this energy system with a different kind of object, like a vehicle or a set of tools... maybe I can create something that stores non-living things just like Poké Balls do for Pokémon."

"Golett?"

"Yeah, I know it sounds crazy. But I think we can do this. We've seen technology evolve this far, and it's just a matter of applying what we know in new ways."

The first trial was… less than successful. The capsule emitted a strange buzzing sound, followed by a sharp electrical crackle. I quickly powered it off, shaking my head. "Not quite right." I adjusted the power flow again and tried again. This time, the capsule hummed faintly, and I could see the faintest ripple of energy inside. It was a good sign.

I took a small metal wrench from the workbench—a simple, everyday object—and gently placed it inside the capsule. I pressed a button to activate the compression field. For a few long moments, nothing happened. But then, with a flash of light, the wrench was gone. I blinked. The capsule had absorbed it, but I had no idea where it had gone.

"Okay, that's… interesting," I muttered, staring at the now-empty capsule. I activated the release function, holding my breath as I watched the energy inside the capsule fluctuate. The light dimmed for a moment, and with a soft whirr, the wrench reappeared, fully intact, on the desk.

I could hardly believe it. The compression had worked, and the object hadn't been damaged. It wasn't perfect yet—it had taken a bit longer than expected, and the power consumption was too high for anything larger than a small wrench—but it was a start.

I let out a breath of relief, my hands trembling with excitement. "It worked… It really worked."

Golett gave a soft, mechanical chirp, as if in approval, and waddled closer to examine the capsule. Its glowing eyes flickered as it nudged the capsule with a curious hand.

I carefully removed the wrench from the desk, making a note of the time it had taken to re-release it. I could already see the flaws: the energy drain, the delay in re-release, and the difficulty in storing larger objects. But those were problems to tackle later. The core concept was sound. I had done it.

For the rest of the day, I worked tirelessly on refining the technology, adjusting the compression ratios, and tweaking the power regulation systems. There was still a lot to do, but the breakthrough had been made. And in that moment, I realized that this could be more than just a cool experiment. It could be the future of transport and storage. If I could perfect this, I could change the way people thought about moving objects, especially in a world where the needs of Pokémon and humans were becoming increasingly intertwined.