The hotel room was modest but clean,two beds, a small desk, a bathroom that looked recently renovated, and a window overlooking one of Mauville's quieter streets. Maxie had already claimed one bed, his pack unpacked with the same meticulous organization he applied to everything else. Equipment sorted by type and frequency of use, clothing folded precisely, research materials arranged in order of priority.

  Micah's own unpacking had been significantly less organized,he'd basically dumped his pack's contents onto the second bed and hoped for the best. His newborn Rhyhorn, meanwhile, had immediately decided that the small rug between the beds was the perfect resting spot and had collapsed there with the complete exhaustion of something that had experienced an entire lifetime's worth of events in just a few hours.

  "You handled that well," Maxie said, settling into the desk chair and pulling out his ever-present notebook. "The hatching, I mean. Many new trainers panic when eggs hatch unexpectedly. You kept your composure, got to the Pokémon Center efficiently, followed proper protocols. That's commendable."

  Micah sat on his bed, watching his Rhyhorn's sides rise and fall with deep, sleeping breaths. "I was definitely panicking. I just... tried not to show it."

  "Controlled panic is still control." Maxie made a note in his book,probably documenting this as some kind of apprentice progress marker. "The ability to function under stress is crucial for field research. You'll face situations where genuine danger requires immediate, clear-headed decision-making. Today was a relatively low-stakes test of that capacity."

  "Low-stakes? My Pokémon was being born!"

  "And birth, while significant, is a natural process that Pokémon have managed successfully for millions of years." Maxie's tone was matter-of-fact rather than dismissive. "The real test was your response,staying calm, seeking appropriate help, following through on necessary procedures. You passed."

  Micah felt heat rise to his cheeks despite himself. Praise from Maxie, he was learning, was rare enough to feel genuinely meaningful.

  "Now," Maxie continued, closing his notebook and focusing fully on Micah, "we should discuss preliminary training. Your Rhyhorn is less than twelve hours old, which means it's in a critical imprinting and behavioral development phase. What you teach it now,or fail to teach it,will establish patterns that persist for years."

  "What kind of training? It just started walking properly."

  "Exactly why we start now. Basic obedience, response to commands, understanding boundaries." Maxie stood, moving to crouch near the sleeping Rhyhorn. "Rock-types are naturally stubborn,it's part of their inherent personality structure. If you don't establish clear expectations early, you'll spend years fighting a Pokémon that simply does whatever it wants regardless of your commands."

  That sounded... problematic. Micah thought about his father's Rhyhorn,patient, obedient, reliable. That hadn't happened by accident.

  "What should I do?"

  "Start simple. Name recognition,teach it to respond to whatever name you choose. Basic commands,come, stay, stop. Reward compliance immediately with physical affection or food. Ignore non-compliance rather than punishing it,Rhyhorn respond better to positive reinforcement than negative correction." Maxie straightened. "The goal isn't to break its will or force submission. The goal is to establish that following your guidance leads to positive outcomes."

  Micah nodded, committing this to memory. Positive reinforcement. Clear expectations. Consistency.

  "Should I start now? It's sleeping."

  "Let it rest tonight. It's had an exhausting day,birth is metabolically expensive. But tomorrow, begin immediately. Short sessions,five to ten minutes,multiple times throughout the day. Rhyhorn attention spans are limited at this age, so brief, frequent training is more effective than extended sessions."

  They discussed specifics for another twenty minutes,what commands to prioritize, how to use tone and body language effectively, common mistakes new trainers made with Rock-types. Micah tried to absorb everything, though exhaustion was catching up with him rapidly. Four days of walking plus the emotional intensity of his Rhyhorn's hatching had left him running on fumes.

  Eventually, Maxie noticed. "Get some sleep. Tomorrow will be busy,I have obligations in the city that will occupy most of my day, which means you'll be managing your Rhyhorn independently. Consider it practical examination number two."

  "What's practical examination number one?"

  "The journey here. You passed that too, incidentally."

  Micah changed into sleep clothes, brushed his teeth, and returned to find his Rhyhorn had woken up and was now attempting to climb onto his bed,a process that involved a lot of scratching at the bedframe and frustrated rumbling sounds.

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  "Here," Micah said softly, lifting the small Pokémon up. It was heavier than it looked, all dense rock and muscle despite its size. The Rhyhorn immediately settled against his chest, that deep rumbling sound transitioning into something almost like purring.

  Micah lay back, one arm wrapped around his partner, and stared at the ceiling. This was real. This was actually, genuinely real. He had a Pokémon. A partner. A responsibility that would define the rest of his life.

  The weight of it should have been terrifying. Instead, it felt... right. Like a missing piece finally slotting into place.

  "I need to name you," he murmured. "Can't just keep calling you Rhyhorn. That's your species, not your identity."

  The Rhyhorn rumbled again, shifting to press more firmly against Micah's side.

  Names. What made a good name? Something meaningful? Something that honored his father's Rhyhorn? Something completely original?

  He thought about the journey here. About his family's struggles. About the land eroding, water reshaping everything, the constant fight against entropy and change. About standing firm despite everything trying to move you.

  Then he thought about the Future. What the lab would be like. The people he would meet. The places he would go. The Pokemon Rhyhorn would become.

  "How about Donny?" he said quietly.

  The Rhyhorn, Donny, made a sound that might have been approval or might have just been contentment at being held. Micah decided to interpret it as approval.

  "Donny it is, then. Welcome to the team."

  He fell asleep like that, his new partner warm against his side, and dreamed of rocky plains and distant horizons waiting to be explored.

  Movement woke Micah at 6:46 AM,not deliberate movement, but the unconscious shifting of a sleeping Pokémon who apparently had very active dreams. Donny's legs were twitching, small horn-nub scraping against Micah's arm, the whole body occasionally jerking with whatever mental images occupied a newborn Rhyhorn's sleeping mind.

  Micah lay still for a moment, disoriented by the unfamiliar room, then remembered. Mauville. Hotel. His Pokémon had hatched. This was his life now.

  He glanced toward the other bed and found it empty, already made with military precision. Maxie's pack was gone too. A quick check of his PokeNav showed no messages,his mentor must have left early, probably to deal with whatever bureaucratic obligations he'd mentioned.

  "Okay," Micah whispered to Donny, who was still sleeping soundly despite the active dreaming. "Let's try not to wake you up while I get ready."

  This proved impossible. The moment Micah tried to extract himself from the bed, Donny woke with a start, immediately panicking at the perceived abandonment. The Rhyhorn made distressed sounds,high-pitched for something so inherently rock-solid,and scrambled to follow Micah toward the bathroom.

  "I'm just taking a shower," Micah explained, realizing even as he said it how absurd it was to reason with a less-than-day-old Pokémon. "I'll be right back. You can stay out here,"

  Donny was having none of it. The moment Micah closed the bathroom door, aggressive scratching began. Not playful scratching,panicked, desperate scratching accompanied by distressed rumbling that was definitely going to get them noise complaints.

  "Donny, I'm right here! I'm literally six feet away!"

  More scratching. Louder rumbling. Now there was growling too,not threatening, but insistent. Demanding. The universal Pokémon language for "I want what I want and I want it NOW."

  Micah opened the door. Donny immediately pushed inside, circling his legs with obvious relief, apparently convinced that closed doors meant permanent separation.

  "Fine. Okay. You can get in here. Just... stay out of the way?"

  He started the shower, testing the water temperature. Donny watched with intense curiosity, apparently fascinated by the concept of running water. When Micah stepped under the stream, the Rhyhorn made concerned sounds,was his human being attacked by aggressive water? Should Donny defend him from this threat?

  "It's fine! It's just water! I'm cleaning myself!"

  Donny was not convinced. The Rhyhorn paced anxiously outside the shower, occasionally sticking its head past the curtain to verify Micah's continued existence, getting splashed in the process and snorting indignantly each time.

  By the time Micah finished and stepped out, Donny was soaked,not intentionally, but from repeated investigative head-insertions into the shower spray. The Rhyhorn's rocky hide was dripping, and it looked thoroughly miserable.

  "Well," Micah said, grabbing a towel, "I guess you need a bath now too."

  Bathing a newborn Rhyhorn turned out to be significantly more complicated than bathing a human. Donny was initially terrified of being in the shower directly, then became convinced it was the greatest experience ever, then decided it was terrible again, then changed its mind back to great. The bathroom floor became a swamp. Micah's clothes,the dry ones he'd been planning to change into,got completely soaked when Donny shook itself off with zero warning, his light and rocky hide clinking and clattering like dense porcelain.

  But eventually, they were both clean. Micah changed into actually dry clothes while Donny rolled on the bathroom rug, apparently trying to dry itself through friction.

  "Okay," Micah said, checking his PokeNav and finding a message waiting. "Let's see what Maxie wants."

  The message was characteristically detailed:

  Micah,I'll be occupied with city obligations for most of today. Use the time to bond with Donny and establish basic training protocols. I've compiled several pamphlets on newborn Pokémon care and sent them to your device. Read thoroughly. The Pokémon Center offers complimentary breakfast and dinner at 8 AM and 6 PM respectively,take advantage of this. I'll check in this evening.

  ,Maxie

  Attached were approximately five different printouts covering everything from "Nutritional Requirements for Rock-Type Hatchlings" to "Establishing Behavioral Boundaries: A Practical Guide" to "Common Health Concerns in Newborn Pokémon."

  Micah skimmed the breakfast information. Free food at the Pokémon Center. That sounded perfect,he was starving, and Donny would need another meal soon anyway.

  "Come on," he said to his partner, who had finally achieved acceptable dryness through aggressive rug-rolling. "Let's go eat."