It was nearly ten in the morning when Ethan finally stirred from sleep. After rolling onto his side, he realized that something heavy weighed on his chest. Startled, he pushed back his blanket only to discover a half-asleep Wartortle sprawled across him, shell-first. The turtle gave a lazy yawn and shifted just enough to let him breathe.
"Hey, Wartortle," Ethan grumbled, rubbing his chest. "Do you know how heavy that shell of yours is? I'm not your bed." The Pokemon's only response was a sleepy mumble, as though it wanted five more minutes of rest.
Sighing, Ethan shoved Wartortle onto the mattress and swung his legs over the edge. "Sometimes I miss sleeping alone," he muttered under his breath. "At least most people get woken by their partners, not a big turtle."
He ambled into the bathroom, expecting a peaceful morning routine, only to recoil at the sight of a toothbrush sporting two cartoonish eyes. "Ditto!" he snarled, hurling the disguised Pokemon onto the floor. The blob squeaked in delight, then slithered away with a cheeky grin. He exhaled in exasperation. "Every day, it's something new," he mumbled, recalling that only a few months prior, he'd been an ordinary white-collar worker with nothing more than a rented flat and a data-entry job. Now, his daily life was saturated with comedic chaos brought on by living among a small group of Pokémon.
By the time he finished washing up, the rest of the Pokemon in the household had stirred: Timmy (Pikachu), Charmeleon, and Mew who was floating in a corner, all of them eyeing him expectantly. "Yeah, yeah," he told them, cracking a slice of bread into pieces, "we'll sort out breakfast." Charmeleon nicknamed "Igneel" snatched up a frying pan to whip up some eggs outside using its tail flame.
Pikachu hopped behind it with an egg clutched in its paws, while Ditto bounced along, probably to shape-shift into some bizarre utensil to amuse itself. Mew just hovered in amusement.
As the group scattered, Ethan tossed on some casual wear and grabbed his phone. "Better head in. Got a lot to do." He wandered into the kitchen one last time to confirm the Pokemon had enough eggs and supplies, then slipped out the door.
He'd left Hoothoot somewhere in the yard, pecking around for insects, so at least the curious owl wouldn't disrupt breakfast. He couldn't help but smile, picturing Mew scolding them all for messing up the lawn with bits of eggshell.
---
At Pokémon Biotech Headquarters
The morning routine at Pokémon Biotech was in full swing by the time Ethan arrived. Employees bustled through hallways clutching documents, software engineers tapped away at code for the Pokémon Monitor, and lab technicians sorted fresh shipments of nutrient solution. Ethan made his way to the main conference room, pausing to greet colleagues and answer quick questions about the newly launched evolution fluid.
When he reached his office, Annie was waiting with a thick folder of proposals. "Mr. Grave," she said with a professional smile, "here's the engineering plan for expanding Lab No. 1 and Lab No. 2. It's from the team you contacted last week." She handed him the documents, referencing expansions he'd mentioned a few days ago.
"Thanks, Annie." He opened the folder and scanned the first pages, noting architectural diagrams. "These are fairly detailed." He paused, flipping through sketches of how to connect Lab No. 2 to the neighboring property.
The old police station land had officially been cleared, and Secretary Elijah had facilitated a lease agreement for an attractive price. "We'll basically double the floor space if we build out properly," Ethan mused aloud. "But I need them to incorporate specialized security measures. This plan doesn't mention them enough."
Annie nodded. "I suspected you'd want modifications. I'll relay your feedback right away."
Just as she turned to leave, Annie remembered something. "By the way, you asked me to monitor any Meteorite-related news, right? A foreign researcher just published a piece early this morning that's gaining traction online. It references some kind of 'space-distorting power' found in fragments."
Ethan's brows lifted. He quickly navigated to a leading science forum on his office computer. Sure enough, pinned to the top was a post titled: "Observations of Anomalous Spatial Energy in Tarvok City Meteorites." Clicking in, he discovered an in-depth article by a Western scientist describing how they had acquired bits of Meteorite from Tarvok City's recent shower. They discovered that soaking them in water elicited faint space fluctuations, but they couldn't figure out how to harness it.
The article ended with a call for collaboration from other global labs. "We suspect a hidden potential in these meteorites please join us in unraveling their secrets," it read.
Ethan scratched his chin. "They did it," he muttered. "They found out how to release the meteorite's space-distorting power just by soaking it. Not surprising, but they can't do much beyond that."
Annie looked uneasy. "Should we be concerned? We're using meteorite water for your 'cone seeds,' right?"
He smiled. "No immediate concern. Extracting the power is one thing, making it useful is another. If anything, it's a relief. Now that it's out in the open, it'll seem normal when I mention 'meteorite-based cultivation' for the cones later." Ethan closed the article. "Thanks for flagging this. Keep me posted if it escalates."
---
Once the day's administrative tasks wrapped up, Ethan drove out to Lab No. 2 to check on the seeds. The separate farmland behind it was bustling with staff, some watering the rapidly sprouting cone plants. They reported that in the "thrice-a-day water zone," the cones had reached a surprising 20 centimeters by day's end. In the "four-times-a-day" zone, a few had already sprouted miniature leaves.
He took a moment to stand among those seedlings, inhaling the damp, earthy smell. Overhead, purple twilight was descending. A soft breeze rustled the cone leaves, which almost seemed to glow with the faint space energy from the meteorite water.
A moment later, his phone buzzed. He looked down to see a social-media alert. The foreign researcher's article had gone viral. Already, local Tarvok City tabloids whipped up excitement, quoting how meteorite water exhibited inexplicable anomalies. The question that recurred on forums was: "Is some unknown genius harnessing this power?"
Ethan chuckled and pocketed his phone. "They won't suspect me unless they connect these fast-growing cones to the meteorite phenomenon. But even then, I can pass it off as a brand-new horticultural method." He rubbed a delicate leaf. "Let them talk. By the time they figure things out, I'll have an entire orchard of cones producing real 'Poké Balls.'"
His system interface, invisible to others, displayed the seedlings' data: robust and steadily rising in "space synergy." If all progressed well, the fruit might start forming in just a few weeks. Perhaps he would speed the process further by refining the watering schedule, but for now he wanted to avoid suspicion of unnatural growth.
---
Late that night, Ethan returned home. Wartortle was passed out on the couch, Charmeleon was fiddling with a spatula from the morning, and Pikachu was rummaging through an open bag of bread. Ditto morphed into a small pillow beneath Mew, who was contentedly napping. The scene was equal parts chaos and comfort.
He set down his briefcase and let out a long sigh. In a matter of months, he had orchestrated the adoption of countless Pokémon, introduced an evolution fluid that set the market on fire, and quietly begun cultivating a "Pokeball Orchard" with seeds derived from meteorite water. He thought about his next steps: possibly unveiling the orchard in a few weeks, or maybe waiting until he had the first fruit. The final plan for a public reveal was still up in the air.
But as he gazed at his Pokemons, he found deep satisfaction in each milestone. The day had begun with a comedic morning routine Wartortle's heavy shell pinned to his torso but ended with further confirmation that his horticultural experiment soared toward success. Outside, the night was calm, the city abuzz with gossip about meteorites, but Ethan's mind was already on tomorrow's tasks. He planned to check on the cones by afternoon, adjusting the watering times for the best results, and carefully monitoring each batch.
He sank into an armchair, letting Wartortle mutter in its sleep, and Charmeleon poked at a leftover eggshell in the sink. All around him, the wonder of Pokémon was tangible. He smiled wearily, thinking "This is chaos, but it's my chaos, born of the dreams I had all those months ago."
The next morning, he would wake up to the usual comical scramble of Pokemon inevitably flopping across his bed, or Ditto disguised as a pillow. But with each sunrise, he felt a growing certainty that he was on the verge of another revolutionary leap. After all, the orchard's budding trees were quickly reaching for the sky, ready to rewrite the rules of genetic engineering and give the world real Poké Balls, one fruit at a time.