Starter Pokémon earned their name for good reason. Most had calm temperaments and grew into strong battlers across three stages of evolution, making them well-suited for novice Trainers who were just starting out.
That said, not every Starter Pokémon was a perfect fit for that role. Each one was an individual, with its own personality, quirks, and tendencies — and some of those tendencies were more difficult to work with than others.
Which created an obvious problem. Parents paid a considerable amount to secure their child's first partner. Handing that child a Pokémon with serious behavioral issues and expecting everyone to be happy about it was not a reasonable expectation.
So the Pokémon Factory had a return and exchange policy.
It wasn't unlimited, of course. If it were, Nova could have simply stayed home, returned every Pokémon that arrived below his standards, and waited until luck eventually sent him something exceptional. He wouldn't have needed to travel all the way to the desert to catch Taylor at all.
Alliance regulations were clear on this: a Starter Pokémon could only be exchanged if there was documented evidence that it was genuinely unsuitable for training, and each child was entitled to exactly one exchange. No more.
That meant every Torchic sitting in this room had something actually wrong with it. Each return represented a real reason — a real problem that someone had decided they couldn't work around.
But was Nova worried about a Pokémon having problems?
He looked at his current team. Every single one of them had something unusual going on upstairs. That was practically a requirement at this point.
As far as Nova was concerned, a Pokémon with a problem was a Pokémon with character. And character — the right kind of unusual, the right kind of unique — was exactly what the Cultivation System worked best with. The more distinctive the individual, the more room there was to develop something truly exceptional. Why would he want anything less?
At Nova's insistence, Karena eventually gave in and agreed to take them to what the factory staff had quietly taken to calling the Problem Child Room.
As she led them down the corridor, she thought to herself that if these two strangely good-looking kids actually chose one of the returned Pokémon, it would at least help the factory clear out some of its more troublesome residents. There was a kind of fairness to it, she supposed. People that attractive were entitled to a few screws loose. It balanced out.
The room itself was noticeably less comfortable than the nursery.
It was smaller, and instead of open play areas and shared feeding stations, there were rows of individual enclosures — compact, practical, and utilitarian. Not all of them were occupied. The residents were scattered across the rows with empty cages in between, which gave the whole space a strangely quiet, abandoned feeling despite the occasional sound coming from within.
Nova walked down the rows with Aresdra beside him, scanning as he went.
It was, as advertised, a remarkable collection.
One Torchic had a white-rated nameplate — talent capped at around Level 30 — but it also carried a trait the system labeled Humanity's Enemy. The description was straightforward: this Pokémon bore deep hostility toward humans, and moves used against human targets received a significant power bonus.
Nova stared at it for a moment.
What kind of Pokémon was this? It sounded like a villain's partner from a bad crime drama.
A few cages down, another Torchic had a blue-rated nameplate — decent enough on paper — but it was lying completely flat on the floor of its enclosure, eyes half-closed, utterly uninterested in anything. Its trait was labeled Lazy Aura: not only did it make the Pokémon itself deeply, profoundly lazy, but it also radiated that lethargy outward, gradually affecting the motivation of both Pokémon and humans nearby.
Nova almost stopped walking.
He stood there for a second, genuinely tempted. A Pokémon that could spread its own laziness to everyone around it was not a problem child — that was a conceptual-level ability. Give that to someone you had a grudge against and their entire household would grind to a halt within a week.
He kept walking. Barely.
As Aresdra passed the third row of enclosures, a Torchic that had been sitting completely still suddenly erupted into noise. It let out a sharp, loud cry — torr-CHIC! — grabbed the bars of its cage with both feet, and began rattling them with surprising force, making enough commotion to draw attention from halfway across the room.
The vibration even disturbed the Lazy Aura Torchic two rows back. It cracked one eye open, determined there was no Earthquake incoming, and went back to sleep.
Nova, for his part, had nearly jumped out of his skin. His first instinct was that this one was another aggression case — one of those Pokémon that treated every approaching human as a threat.
Then he looked more carefully at where exactly the Torchic's eyes were focused.
It was staring directly at Aresdra. And its eyes had gone completely soft.
Nova blinked.
That wasn't aggression. That was something else entirely.
He ran a quick scan, and then stood very still for a moment, rereading what had appeared in his vision.
His expression shifted to something between disbelief and reluctant admiration. He turned to Karena, who had drifted a few steps behind them.
"This Torchic," he said, keeping his voice measured. "It looks full of energy. Why was it returned?"
Karena walked over, glanced at the number on the enclosure, and didn't even need to check her tablet. This one she knew by memory.
"On its first day at its new home, it pecked a hole clean through its Trainer's arm. Then it used Ember on the parents." She paused. "The father tried to discipline it with a stick. The following morning, the Torchic set fire to the family's house. The family is now pursuing compensation from the factory for fire damage."
Nova said nothing for a moment.
Level eleven, and it had already committed arson. That was something.
He pulled up the scan readout again and read through it properly this time.
Species: Torchic Level: 11 Ability: Blaze Hidden Ability: Speed Boost
Traits:
Ten-Thousand-Degree Fireball — Greatly increases the power of Fire-type moves. Increases the burn chance of Fire-type moves by 50%. Contact moves of any type have a chance to trigger a burn effect, dealing Fire-type damage equal to 20% of the move's power to the target.
Early Martial Artist — Fighting-type energy awakens early, increasing the power of Fighting-type moves.
Speedy Attacker — Attack power scales with Speed. The higher the Speed stat, the greater the Attack bonus.
Appearance-Fixated — This Pokémon is highly responsive to the physical appearance of its Trainer. It resists bonding with Trainers it does not find attractive. Conversely, the more attractive the Trainer, the greater the stat bonuses it receives — up to a maximum of 2× each base stat.
Wrathful Dash — This Pokémon is easily provoked. As anger rises, so does Speed. At peak rage, Speed can reach up to 1.2× its base value.
Moves: Counter (Egg Move), Crush Claw (Egg Move), Night Slash (Egg Move), Peck (Egg Move), Last Resort (Egg Move), Quick Attack, Ember, Scratch, Flame Charge
Cultivation Notes:
Confirm whether your appearance meets the threshold for the Appearance-Fixated trait. Suggested method: consult a mirror. Develop the Fire-type and Fighting-type move pools. Suggested method... ...
Nova stared at the readout.
So it wasn't aggression at all. The Torchic hadn't gone wild when it saw Aresdra out of hostility. It had gone wild because she walked past and it immediately decided she was the most attractive thing it had ever encountered in its eleven levels of existence.
That explained everything, actually. The previous family — or at least the parents — clearly hadn't met whatever threshold the Appearance-Fixated trait required. The result had been a Torchic that felt no particular loyalty toward its Trainer, received no stat bonuses to speak of, and had absolutely no reason to cooperate with anyone.
That also meant the arson wasn't random. It was personal.
Nova looked at the Torchic again. It was still watching Aresdra with the same hopeful, unblinking attention.
He also noted, checking the data, that this Torchic was female — which was worth something on its own. The male-to-female ratio among Starter Pokémon ran roughly three to one. Female Starters were simply less common.
Even setting aside the gold-rated nameplate, even setting aside the trait list, even setting aside the Hidden Ability —
Nova had already made up his mind the moment he read the talent rating.
There was no version of this situation in which he was leaving a Gold Talent Torchic behind.