Chapter - 10 Pikachu's Backstory
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Somewhere in a Hidden Lab...
Deep underground, far from the light of the sun, a cold, sterile lab hummed with activity. The air was thick with chemicals, the scent of metal and desperation lingering in every corner. Inside, rows of cages lined the steel walls—each holding a different Pokémon, chained and weak, their eyes filled with fear, exhaustion… and anger.
On the far side of the lab, dozens more Pokémon floated silently inside tall cylindrical pods, submerged in a strange green liquid. Thin tubes connected to their bodies, pumping unknown substances into their veins as their eyes remained shut, trapped in an artificial sleep.
White-coated scientists moved back and forth, muttering as they observed readings on flickering monitors and scrawled data onto clipboards.
> "Subject #43 is showing a 6% increase in electrical output after exposure to variant serum."
"We need to stabilize the DNA strands before further infusion."
"Double-check the restraints. That Riolu tried to break containment last cycle."
And watching from the shadows, a small, bound Pichu trembled silently in his cage. Shackled by thick metallic cuffs far too heavy for someone his size, he could only stare through the bars at the horror unfolding before him.
He hadn't been alone at first. Just days ago, he had been playing with other wild Pichus in the forest—carefree, laughing, innocent.
Until they came.
A machine descended from the skies—hovering, mechanical, with a bold, unmistakable red "R" logo stamped across its black body. Before the Pichus could run, it fired nets and beams of light. Screams and sparks echoed through the forest.
And then—darkness.
Now, this lone Pichu, once full of mischief and joy, watched with disdain and fear as his friends were forcibly removed from their cages, injected with strange fluids, and shoved into those eerie pods like lifeless test subjects.
The scientists didn't speak to them, didn't acknowledge them as living creatures. Only as specimens.
Food was given—barely enough to survive. A tasteless sludge delivered by robotic arms. Just enough to keep their hearts beating… not enough to give them strength.
Pichu's tiny fists clenched.
This isn't right. This is evil.
He didn't know when or how, but somewhere deep inside, a fire began to burn. A spark of resistance. Of defiance.
He would survive this. Somehow.
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Time passed in that cursed lab.
One day, as the scientists gathered around their monitors, one of them muttered with a grin, "The new formula should work. Bring those Pichu over."
One by one, Pichu's friends were taken from their cages, limp and silent, and placed into the strange pods. The containers filled with green fluid, and the process began.
The small Pichu—watching everything from the corner of the lab—snapped.
His tiny body trembled with fury as he threw himself against the cage bars, sparks threatening to fly from his cheeks—but nothing came. His electricity had been suppressed. Heavy shackles and the strange collar on his neck drained his energy.
"He's got spirit," one of the scientists said, stopping as he noticed the fierce gleam in Pichu's eyes. "Let's test the formula on this one."
Without a second thought, the scientist activated the controls, and mechanical arms forced the struggling Pichu from his cage. He bit, kicked, even tried to cry out—but he was too weak. They strapped him into a pod, cold pipes attaching to his limbs, chest, and back. Fluids pumped into his body—unnatural and icy.
He could feel his mind fading, his muscles weakening, his vision blurring.
I have to escape… I have to survive…
But darkness crept in. He was falling unconscious.
And then—
BOOM!!
An explosion ripped through the lab.
One of the pods had ruptured from within, flooding the chamber with flames and smoke. Alarms blared. Sparks and fire shot out from the consoles.
The scientists panicked.
> "Containment breach!"
"Evacuate now!"
"Shut down the pods—SHUT THEM DOWN!"
They fled the room in chaos, leaving the Pokémon behind.
Pichu's pod cracked. Then again. And finally—
CRASH!
The glass shattered, and he spilled onto the floor, drenched in strange liquid, gasping for breath. Flames licked the walls. Lights flickered.
But he was free.
Using the last of his strength, he staggered down the corridor, slipping through a broken vent and escaping into the wild.
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By the River… A New Beginning
Eventually, he found a riverbank. He dragged his aching body to the edge, splashed water on his face, and drank until his throat stopped burning. The chemical stench still clung to his fur.
His reflection in the water looked tired…
But he was alive.
With a tired sigh, the little Pichu collapsed beside the water, unconscious.
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The Kangaskhan Family
When he awoke, the sun was warm, and the grass soft beneath him. He blinked groggily and saw a herd of Kangaskhan drinking from the river nearby.
One of them noticed him. A large, gentle-eyed mother approached cautiously. She knelt beside him, nudged him softly, and checked his small body for wounds. Despite her size, her touch was gentle.
Pichu flinched at first, but the exhaustion and kindness broke through his defenses.
She picked him up and cradled him in her arms. After a few quiet moments, she opened the pouch on her belly and carefully nestled him beside her own baby.
Warmth. Safety. For the first time in a while he felt it again.
In the days that followed, he stayed with the Kangaskhan family. They fed him, bathed him, and let him play alongside their children. He was cautious at first, always alert, always listening for explosions or footsteps.
But slowly… he smiled again.
The mother Kangaskhan treated him like her own, always keeping him close, letting him ride in her pouch beside her baby, as if he belonged there.
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*Pichu and the Kangaskhan Family*
Pichu found comfort, safety, and family with the Kangaskhan group. He played with the baby Kangaskhan, shared food, and lived happily for some time. However, deep down, Pichu knew he wasn't truly part of that world—and as he matured, he began to feel a pull toward independence.
One quiet night, while watching the stars and reflecting on everything the Kangaskhan had done for him, Pichu made a decision. With a full heart and deep affection, he chose to leave them behind—believing it was time to walk his own path.
In that moment of emotional growth and gratitude, Pichu evolved into Pikachu.
It was his first step toward becoming the Pokémon who would one day meet Ash Ketchum.
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Professor Oak's Ranch
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After his evolution, the newly formed Pikachu wandered for a time, following the scent of blooming berries and the calls of wild Pokémon, until he stumbled across a large open pasture. Trees rustled gently, wild Pokémon grazed in peace, and in the distance—fields of juicy berries called out to his senses.
Hungry and still recovering from the trauma of the lab, Pikachu cautiously made his way into the open and found a bush filled with ripe, purple berries. He sniffed once. Then twice.
Sweet.
Without hesitation, he began munching happily, cheeks full, eyes twinkling. A rare look of satisfaction crossed his face, tail wagging side to side with joy.
"Pika… chu…"
Suddenly—
RUSTLE!
From the bushes, a calm, curious voice called out.
"Oh my! A Pikachu? Where did you come from, little guy?"
Pikachu froze, his ears twitching as Professor Oak emerged from the undergrowth, holding a Pokéball in one hand and a notebook in the other.
The professor looked genuinely surprised—and delighted.
"You're not registered in the habitat records… Hmm, are you lost?"
Pikachu narrowed his eyes. His instincts screamed caution. Without warning—
ZAAAPP!!
A bolt of electricity surged from his cheeks, and struck Oak square in the chest.
Zzzt!
"YAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!"
A second later, Professor Oak stood there, his lab coat smoking, hair pointing in all directions like a blown-out candle. His face was pitch black with soot, eyes spinning in a daze.
He didn't fall. He just… stood there. In total silence.
"…"
And then—Pikachu burst out laughing.
"Pika! Pika pika pika-chuuu!" he rolled on the ground, paws over his belly.
The sight was too much.
Oak's twitching mouth formed a dry smile as his vision began to blur, cartoonish images of ten Pikachu circling around his head and giggling echoed through his mind.
When his sight finally returned to normal, Oak found a Pokéball still gripped in his hand.
"Well… you're a feisty one. But let's see…"
Still snickering and distracted, Pikachu didn't notice when Oak gently tossed the Pokéball at him.
Bonk. Zap. Click…
The ball wobbled.
Once…
Twice…
Ping!
"Gotcha."
Professor Oak exhaled. "That Thunder Shock… far too powerful for an average Pikachu. I wonder if there's something… unusual in your genetics."
He looked down at the Pokéball thoughtfully.
"You're something special, aren't you?"
Without further delay, the professor took Pikachu back to his lab, intending to study this unusually strong Electric-type—and wondering just where exactly this mysterious Pikachu came from.
[A/N :- who's gonna tell him this Pikachu would one day become a legend. ]
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