DISCLAIMER: I don't own Pokémon, but the OC's. If I did, Ash wouldn't be such girl, not to mention an immature child, and Brock would have some self-control (or he'd get the taser a few times...Okay, more than a few times...). I also don't own the US Army, USAROTC (United States Army Reserve Officer Training Corp), or the Gopher Battalion. Those all belong to the US government. I do however belong to all three.

Author's Note: A few songs that Nocturnal Lupus wrote fit this fanfic, which was completely unintentional. Listen to Medieval Melancholy for the entire prologue. I'll start each chapter with a song choice if there is one. Now on to the first chapter!

Pokémon: New World

Prologue: Lost at Sea

I slowly regained consciousness. The first thing that jumped to my attention was that everything hurt. Eventually the pain started to fade, and the next thing to come to my attention was that I seemed to be rocking. Up, down, up, down, left, right, left, right. I slowly open my eyes, only to have to shut them again due to the bright light. I then cautiously opened my eyes, opening them slow enough to let them get adjusted to the light, and looked around. I was stuck out in the middle of the ocean. I looked at what was holding me up, and saw one of those emergency life preservers from planes that are used during emergency landings in the water. I couldn't remember how I ended up in the ocean, but I could remember everything else.

My name is Cadet Eric Fischer, United States Army Reserve Officer Training Corp, otherwise known as AROTC or Army ROTC, Gopher Battalion located at the University of Minnesota, Twin Cities. I'm Caucasian, six-foot-nothing (though according to the Army, some of my family are six-foot-one and I'm taller than they are), and 170 pounds. I have brown hair, hazel eyes, and glasses. The last thing I could remember was heading home after a weeklong vacation in Hawai'i.

I had just finished school before we went. I remembered the vacation clearly, and all of the fun my parents and I had; visiting the Arizona Memorial in Pearl Harbor, scuba diving in the Pacific Ocean, and a few other things. However, my mind blanked the moment we boarded the plane back home. I noticed an isle off in the distance. It looked close, but it was off on the horizon; probably a good twelve to fifteen miles away. I was a great swimmer, but I didn't know if I could make it that far. However, it looked like I didn't have much choice.

I checked the time and started swimming. I swam forward, good ol' fashion breaststroke. I trusted that the life vest would keep me afloat, so I focused on moving forward. I kept it slow. The point of this swim was not speed, but endurance.

The silence started to get to me so I started to call out cadence, and sing some songs that I had memorized:

"Hey, hey, Captain Jack!

Meet me down by the railroad track!

With that knife in your hand!

I'm gonna be a stabbing man!

The best I can!

For Uncle Sam!

Re-up, you're crazy!

Re-up, you're outta your mind!

Who said you're lazy!?

I said, you're crazy!"

After a few verses of that cadence, I moved on to another one, and then another, and then another. The Island didn't look any closer, but I knew I was making progress, at least that was what I told myself. It was hard to judge distance when there are no reference points. I felt my muscles protesting at the amount of abuse that they were being put through, but when it comes to do-or-die, they could take it.

Another thing I could feel was the sun. I knew I was suffering from exposure, not only to the freezing temperatures of the ocean water, but also to the harmful rays of the sun. It was a no-win situation for me, and I just had to tough it out. It was getting to be painful, but I knew that when I joined the Army, that there was a possibility of me being in pain, either from a wound or some other injury. I just gritted me teeth and pushed through it.

I looked at the watch I had on, luckily waterproof to 200 meters, and noticed that I had been swimming for a good three hours solid. Part of me begged for a break, but I knew to stop could mean that I'd die. With that thought in mind, I continued forward. Minutes dragged by, and the island didn't look any closer. Then those minutes dragged into hours, and finally, it looked like I was making some progress. My arms and legs had gone numb from the cold and the abuse they suffered. I was glad that I was swimming the whole way, as that exercise warmed my body; however, I was slowly running out of energy as adrenaline slowly gave way to exhaustion. The island looked really close now, just a mile or two away. I glanced at my watch, three more hours had past. I then noticed that my responsiveness was starting to become sluggish, and that I was shivering very badly. I stepped up the pace to try and make it to the island as quick as I could.

I really sped up, as it took me only about forty-five minutes to reach the beach. My legs wouldn't support me when I got to the shore, so I just dragged myself onto the beach. I was shivering so badly that I knew I was suffering from hypothermia and that it was starting to get extremely bad. I noticed that the edges of my vision were starting to go black, and I fought off the exhaustion that had suddenly hit me hard with all of my waning strength. I tried to drag myself off the beach and into some shade to try and get some shelter from the sun, but it proved too much. My vision went black and I was out cold before my head even hit the sand.