From the very first moment since you were born, throughout the entirety of your childhood and teenage years, you were constantly reminded at almost every opportunity whenever you felt a little too comfortable, a little too complacent, that this was not your world. Now, that’s not you had a bad time growing up it was quite the contrary. You were raised by two very loving parents, lived in a house that always had food, went to a good school in a good neighborhood and even managed to make some friends along the way. The problem was, however, that you were a human. And whenever you felt yourself having too much fun with your after-school pals, or forgot what was decided for you long before you were even conceived, you could simply look up into the sky and remember how utterly small you were.
You lived in a world where the most dominant lifeform was Pokemon, utterly gigantic Pokemon capable of crushing mountains into pancakes under their paws should they choose to ever grow so big. Many don’t, but some of them do, and one of those some, a Dragonite, came past your village one day when you were around twelve. Before that day, you had it in your mind that you would go outside your little home, eventually. It was nice enough, but it was very staid, and in your childlike curiosity you didn't see anything wrong about wanting to see more. And then the Dragonite came. You didn't know how tall he was. Ten thousand feet? Twenty thousand? Whatever measurement of height he was, if he could be measured, all you knew was that the clouds above didn't even reach his chest.
You almost died that day, you and everyone else in the village. You felt the earthquakes half an hour before he even arrived, you would later find out he was taking a nice, relaxing stroll. He was monumentally ripped with muscle, from his neck to his calves, wearing nothing but a pair of workout shorts that covered his private areas. His paw came down just next to your hometown, flattening the forest you always dreamed about playing in, burying rivers and creeks under untold tons of mud and earth, and turned the nearby plateau into mere flatland. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the little village by his feet. He apologized and swore quietly under his breath for his clumsiness, but other than that you don’t think he was so beat up about.
You used to dream about leaving your little village. You still do, but they're more akin to nightmares than anything else. Of course, in a funny-really not so funny twist of irony, it was at this stage of life when you were forced to do exactly what you feared the mos. Leave. Pokemon could legally adopt humans as pets, as servants, or as toys if they please, and one Pokemon from the nearby city was in the 'market for one', so to speak. The Pokemon wasn't as big as that Dragonite so long ago, you were told, but still big enough to turn your childhood home into splinters with ease. You, along with all the other humans that met the Pokemon's stringent requirements, were escorted as calmly as possible to the town square, where he would make his selection. You could see his hulking form from miles away, he was a...