As I finally found it, I reached for my Pokéball, containing the strongest Pokémon I owned. "Go! Steelix!" Weaken 'im with Steelix, finish 'im off with Pikachu, I thought.

Mew, obviously seeing he was at a disadvantage, blasted a full-power Psybeam at Steelix. Suddenly, Steelix preformed Rock Tomb, severely injuring Mew. The little critter was covered in blood. As I reached for a Ultra Ball, I heard a voice in my mind. One from the chip in my brain allowing me to communicate with Pokémon.

"NO MORE."

I told Steelix to come back, and walked slowly over to Mew. He was laying on the ground, bleeding harshly. I grabbed my Ultra Ball, and attempted to catch Mew with it. No luck. The ball just bounced off. I attempted several times. Nothing.

That's when I realized. Mew was dead. Steelix's Rock Tomb was too much for Mew. I just had one thing to say to Steelix. "Leave." I sent out Blastoise, who blasted Steelix with a Hydro Pump attack. Steelix fell on the ground, also dead. I realized how much I had changed Steelix. From the day Brock had given him to me as a baby Onix, to my last birthday, the day when Steelix hit level 100. The longer I had kept him, the more aggressive he had became.

I knew it was time for me to retire from being a trainer. I released Blastoise and Butterfree, knowing I'd never see them again. However, I kept Pikachu. If there was one Pokémon that never changed, it was her. I freed Pikachu from the Pokéball, and walked to my house in Pallet Town.

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It's been 10 years now. Pikachu had breeded and lived a long life. She finally died 2 years ago. 31 years after I got her. I now take care of Pi, the only Pichu who survived after Pikachu's death. My grandson, Robert, seems to like Pi enough. He seems just as enthusiastic about getting Pi when I die as I was 33 years ago, when I was 34, reciving Pikachu for scientific study. I hope Robert grows up to be a better trainer than me.