When Logan and Cynthia returned to Professor Oak’s laboratory, they were greeted by the sound of Oak’s booming voice—so loud it nearly rattled the windows. From inside, occasional sparks of electricity flashed outward, spilling from the gaps in the shutters.

Logan wasn’t particularly worried about Oak’s personal safety. The old professor was far too experienced to be truly endangered by a simple Pokémon scuffle. Still, curiosity pushed him forward. He slid the door open and stepped inside—only to find Professor Oak red-faced, waving his arms as he shouted at a little girl and her Pikachu.

The girl looked no older than ten or eleven. Beside her was a Doduo, nervously stamping its twin talons against the floor. The small girl wore a straw hat that shadowed her flushed face. Embarrassed, she rubbed her pale-yellow hair and gave an awkward little giggle as Oak thundered on.

“Yellow?”

Logan blinked in surprise, recognizing her immediately. “What are you doing all the way out here in Pallet Town? Did something happen?”

Professor Oak turned sharply toward him, relief flashing in his eyes. “Logan, you know this child? She’s from Pallet Town? Whose family does she belong to? I’ve never seen her around before!” His words tumbled out quickly, half-frustrated and half-exasperated.

“She’s not from Pallet Town. She lives in Viridian…”

Logan hadn’t even finished when he saw the Pikachu perched on Doduo’s head leap down—bolting straight toward him.

He instinctively stepped back. The Eevee perched on his shoulder stiffened, ears twitching with sharp suspicion. After all, the memory of Oak yelping in pain from Pikachu’s electrical shock was still fresh in Logan’s mind. He had no desire to be zapped without reason.

But when he looked closer at the Pikachu, realization dawned instantly.

“…You’re Red’s Pikachu, aren’t you?”

Even though Pokémon of the same species looked nearly identical, a bond of familiarity made them distinct. And Logan had seen this particular Pikachu enough to recognize it in an instant.

“Pika! Pikapi!”

The Pikachu nodded furiously. Then it leapt straight onto Logan’s collar, tugging on his jacket with its tiny paws, shaking him with urgency. Moments later, it jumped back down, darting around the floor as though acting out a stage play—first screaming dramatically, then collapsing flat on the floor, playing dead. All the while, it cried out desperately:

“Pika! Pika-pika! Pika-chuuuu!!”

Logan rubbed his temples, exasperated. He glanced at Cynthia, then at Professor Oak. Both shook their heads helplessly.

Even the greatest researcher alive wouldn’t dare claim they could fully translate Pokémon speech. If anyone asked Oak to study the language of Pokémon, he would simply sigh and say, “Better pick another topic.”

“Big brother,” Yellow piped up anxiously, stepping forward. “What Pikachu means is that its Trainer is in danger! It wants you to help! I met it in Viridian Forest—it was badly injured, so I healed it. Ever since then, it’s been frantic to find you.”

She quickly pulled a sketchbook from her satchel, flipping to a page and holding it up for Logan. The page showed a detailed drawing of a wounded Pikachu, fur scorched, tail bent, barely conscious.

Unlike others who used cameras, Yellow preferred capturing the world through her art.

Oak stared at the sketch in astonishment. “She… she can actually understand what Pikachu’s saying?” His eyes widened, awed by her unusual gift.

Logan knelt, scooping Pikachu gently into his arms. “Is that true, Pikachu?”

The little Pokémon nodded vigorously, eyes blazing with urgency.

“Judging by Yellow’s sketch, those injuries weren’t light,” Logan murmured, frowning. “You were nearly at the brink of death… For Red’s partner to be hurt this badly… What kind of opponent could force him into such a situation?”

He lifted his gaze, voice firm. “Yellow, can you tell from Pikachu’s memory where this battle took place?”

Yellow’s face brightened. “Yes! I saw it when I spoke to Pikachu. Look—here!”

She flipped to another page of her sketchbook. This time, the drawing was a breathtaking panorama of craggy mountains and caves.

Logan’s eyes widened. “That’s… Mt. Moon?!”

He knew Kanto’s landmarks well. One glance was all it took to recognize the mountain range.

“Pikachu, you ran from Mt. Moon all the way to Viridian Forest…?” Logan muttered in disbelief.

The thought left him awestruck. Pikachu couldn’t fly. The treacherous slopes of Mt. Moon alone were daunting, and the path between there and Viridian Forest crossed entire cities—including Pewter City. To cover such a massive distance, injured to the brink of collapse, and still survive…

This was sheer determination.

Logan realized why Pikachu had come here. Of all the people Red had met on his journey, Logan was both the strongest and the one closest to him. Pikachu had put its last hope in him.

“Professor, I heard from Red’s mother that he received a challenge letter from Mt. Moon. Do you still have it?” Logan asked sharply.

Oak nodded quickly. “Red took the original, but he has the good habit of recording every challenge he receives. Wait—I’ll print a copy.”

The professor rushed into the back room. Within minutes, he returned with a sheet of paper fresh from the printer.

Logan scanned it swiftly. No name. No signature. Just a single line: ‘I’ll be waiting at Mt. Moon.’

If someone had sent this to Logan, he would have laughed and tossed it aside—far too busy to play along with anonymous games. But Red… Red would have gone with enthusiasm, ready for battle.

Logan clenched his fist. The paper crumpled into a ball in his hand.

“Logan, do you know who sent it?” Oak asked quickly, alarmed by his expression.

Logan exhaled. “After the Indigo Plateau ended, someone approached me. I’ve been training hand-to-hand combat with him at Mt. Moon ever since. The handwriting is his. He doesn’t like modern tech, so he always handwrites his letters. There’s no doubt about it… Kanto’s Elite Four—Bruno.”

At the mention of the name, both Oak and Cynthia stiffened. They knew well what ‘Elite Four’ represented. Yellow, however, blinked in confusion, clearly unfamiliar with the weight the name carried.

“But even so…” Logan’s brows furrowed. “Even if Bruno defeated Red, he wouldn’t leave him without a chance to retreat. Red’s nowhere to be found. That’s what worries me.”

He turned to Yellow. “Anything else? Did Pikachu’s memories reveal more?”

Yellow shook her head apologetically. “The battle memories were too blurry… I couldn’t see them clearly.”

Logan softened. “Don’t worry. Those memories must’ve been too painful for Pikachu to relive. It’s natural to push them away.”

At that moment, Logan noticed Daisy Oak—her face pale, her hands trembling.

“Daisy? What’s wrong? Are you sick?” he asked.

She shook her head slowly, fear flickering in her eyes. “No… It’s just—Red being in danger reminded me of something. Blue and I made a promise—to always call home every three days. But now… he’s already several days late. At first, I thought he just forgot, but…”

“Call him. Now.” Logan’s voice was sharp, decisive.

Daisy startled, then quickly dialed Blue’s number. She waited anxiously.

“…It rang. But he didn’t answer.”

Her face drained of color. Even Oak’s expression darkened.

If the call hadn’t gone through, it could be chalked up to poor signal. But for it to connect, and still not be answered… that suggested something far worse.

Logan didn’t waste a second. He flipped open his Pokédex, scanning for trainer locations. Every Pokédex carried a locator function. Sure enough—both Red and Blue’s signals were gone, jammed or deliberately blocked.

“Daisy. Do you know where Blue was last time he called?”

“He was east of Vermilion City, crossing the sea.”

“Then it’s confirmed.” Logan’s voice dropped low. “Both Red and Blue are missing. Pikachu’s bond with Red tells us he’s still alive, but we don’t know where.”

Pokémon shared an extraordinary connection with their Trainers. If Red had truly died, Pikachu would have felt it instantly.

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose. “When there’s no trouble, life is quiet. But when it comes, it all comes at once…”

Then his head jerked up suddenly. “Wait. Green!”

He quickly reached for his Pokédex, calling the fourth of their group—the talented girl who’d placed fourth in the last Indigo Plateau.

Please, Logan thought grimly. Please don’t tell me she’s missing too.

——————–

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