When Pocus awakened, he was immediately aware of the change.

The young boy couldn't explain it then, but the moment he became conscious that fateful morning, he knew of his transformation. He pushed himself up from his bed, having slept face-down.

His hands had become three-fingered claws, the ivory points vicious yet graceful in their form. His manipulative claws led upward into his arms, covered in leathery gold skin. Pocus' gaze continued its observation upwards to his shoulders, which had formed large, brown plates that curved and circled, forming spheroid shells as a covering, though he knew that underneath was more of the material.

The armor-like brown skin covered the entirety of his chest to just above his midriff, where the gold skin continued, interrupted only by the trio of faded-red stripes on his abdomen. Here, his body took on a more brutal form while retaining its grace. Legs thick with muscle made up his lower half, two-toed with huge claws tipping the appendages, and a rudimentary claw on the back, lending a saurian appearance to his shape.

When he eventually rolled out of his bed, ripping the sheets with his new claws, he stumbled with a surprising weight tugging at his back.

Pocus stumbled a bit, slightly startled at the ridiculously-large tail he now had. His tail was large to the point that from his mid-back down to the inside of his knees were against the thick tail, but the gold tail tapered to a point in such a way as to make even the ridiculous bloated form of his tail only add to the mystique of his figure.

Pocus had no sense of wonder or awe for his new shape. He traced his tail's outline, rubbing from where the tail came from him and past the brown band a quarter of the way down. All this was new, and, to Pocus, was utterly amazing. It was quite a rush to wake up into a new form, especially one with as much power as this.

But it felt natural.

Pocus' family was renowned in the Kanto region for their psychic ability. They were among a growing number of "true psychics," and not any of those so-called fortune tellers that "sensed" your future. And even among his own family of powerful supernaturals, Pocus was especially powerful.

Though, despite his discovery of his new body, routine still was certainly a master.

The changed Pocus made his way from his room and to the kitchen, a savage grace evident in his every step, as if even his every movement was calculated. His ever-watchful eyes took in his surroundings, noting the slight difference in height of everything. His new - nay, his [i]true[/i] form - was shorter than the average human, lending a dissimilar perspective on his world.

His mother and father were absent from the kitchen. Again, Pocus remained unsurprised. It was 03:14 in the morning.

An inconvenience: his favorite breakfast item was now farther from his shortened reach. Pocus reached out with his mind as he had so many times before, but received an unprecedented shock when his normal amount of energy he used for such a task suddenly lanced from his mind and pierced the cabinet and box. The slight clattering of crushed-corn concoctions warned him of his scattered meal.

Pocus froze absolutely still and listened hard. Afterwards, he chuckled how he had feared awakening his parents, psychic they may be, for what could the lesser-beings do to him?

The boy still alive in Pocus' mind remained adamant for sugary nourishment, however, and the creature searched the unopened cupboards further for another fitting start to the day. Pocus stopped on a smaller box of cardboard, within which sat a similar bag of cereal.

Holding back his amazing energies, Pocus held out his hand-claw and a violet glow emitted from his eyes and claw. The cupboard door creaked open to reveal his target. With a childish grin, Pocus willed the cereal box from its refuge and into his waiting claw.

He strode to his refrigerator and repeated the process with the lactose fluid. Pocus let the door swing closed, trying to sort out what these words meant that were floating around in his head. They made sense, but it was slightly confusing, still referring to what he knew and loved by such large and odd-sounding words. It was a question he would ponder, among many.

As turned away from the fridge, he finally got a look at his face.

Long and narrow, with the gold-yellow skin covering most of him, Pocus' face looked much like a kitsune's. There, though, he immediately saw the similarities ended. For one, a pair of long, furred tendrils extended down from his face for a couple of feet, their origin just behind his snout and mouth. His pointed ears curved away from his skull, but shot upwards with his change in emotion. Imprinted on his forehead, a five-pointed star rested between his pointed eyes.

Pocus' pupils, he saw, were the only part of him that had retained their human element, staying ice-blue and cold, though containing his oft-surfacing child-like energy.

He turned away towards his seat with little more than a huff of amusement.

A short leap brought him to his throne, and a will of the mind brought the hovering breakfast items to rest atop the table. Not yet done, though, Pocus willed the cereal over his bowl and commanded it tip its contents into his dish. The multicolored flakes came out in a cascade, almost overflowing the bowl, but stopping at just the right amount as he tipped the box back up. Next was the milk, following in like manner and perfectly filling to just the right amount.

It was then the terrible inconvenience occurred to Pocus that he lacked a spoon.

His annoyance was almost tangible, bordering on anger, even. Unwittingly, he gathered his psychic energies about himself and built up the levels of power to a point that even his form could not contain. The oven and microwave went off, spastically beeping and changing heat settings in the blink of an eye. The stove timer rang wildly, the in-sink disposal grinded, and the counter-top TV turned on and switched channels rapidly. The lights started to brighten to levels unbearable to human eyes and the symphonic chaos rose to its climax.

Then, with a magnificent whoosh of frying circuitry, the electronics promptly exploded, pitching the kitchen and dining room into silence and darkness. Glass tinkled slightly as Pocus opened his eyes, the realization of his power dawning on him.

He just shorted out every single electronic in his vicinity without so much as an aggravated thought. Even that was surprising to the transfigured boy's thoughts. With this release of metaphysical energies, though, he was both drained and empowered, feeling as if a new life force had replaced his blood. Something a lot more rejuvenating. It seemed to be coming from within his right hand.

Pocus gazed over and smiled when he saw that it was a spoon. Somehow, it was channeling his focus, he realized.

"Pocus? Is that you? What are you doing up?" he heard a female voice echo through the halls.

Mother.

For the first time since waking up, he was fearful for himself and for how his human parents would react. Despite his power and majesty, it was a dark spear into his heart of that occurrence.

With hardly an organized thought to spare, he leapt from the chair and dashed for the door the moment he landed. Despite his ivory claws on his feet, he made no more sound than that of the ruffling material of the cloth on the rug. He commanded the door to open mere feet before he reached it, and it obeyed with such ardor that its clang against the wall rang throughout the house.

Pocus wished for more speed and found it as he willed more power to his muscles, wind starting to whistle by his ears.

He passed the threshold and was nothing more than a shade into the night, even before his parents were even arising from their beds to investigate the cause of all the commotion in the kitchen. Pocus' eyes started to water as the realization dawned that he would likely never again be able to return home. All he had to his name was the spoon in his hand-claw. There were no other things he could call his own.

Pocus ran. He ran and ran and ran, finding no reason for stopping and neither wishing for one. The tears ran down his face, his earlier bravery forgotten. All the power in the world meant moot if he did not have a place to call home, and who could love a creature like him?

He continued on. For how long, he did not know. The only thing he was aware of was slowing down and finding himself high atop a mountain peak, overlooking a magnificent valley in which winked the lights of the towns and cities beneath.

Pocus gazed downwards to the humans below, deliberating his new life. He couldn't return to his former human life, but neither could he just run wild without a plan.

He remembered his meditation techniques and thought to turn to those.

Sitting down cross-legged on the ground, Pocus breathed deeply and calmed his mind. He reached out with his senses, reaching for his surroundings.

Immediately he was aware of an openness of mind he had heretofore never experienced. When he had meditated as a human, his psychic reach only extended so far, his limit having been the adjacent counties.

Now, though, he noticed amplification with his form again.

In mere seconds, he could feel the particle of being that made up the entirety of the world and every being within it. He saw every person, read their mind like a book, experienced what they felt, saw what they saw. Pocus felt like a shark, darting in and out of thoughts like they were schools of fish. Though he wasn't on the hunt to end or devour these thoughts.

No, he was more like a Staraptor soaring through the sky, the thoughts he sensed being clouds that he flitted through on near-silent wings. Though not even that description seemed apt. There were so many colors with a vivid light he had never known before, even on his best day.

As Pocus weaved in and out of the thoughts, feelings, and emotions of all the beings, human and Pokemon alike, he was struck with a sudden realization. It hit him so suddenly and so fast that he almost choked on his own breath. The world of psychic awareness flickered as his focus wavered, but quickly he brought his breathing back into control.

He eased himself out of this heightened psychic awareness and back into his alien-yet-familiar body. As he opened his terrestrial body's eyes, his discovery finally dawned fully on him. It was a discovery that he was thankful to have discovered, but a new trouble came over him.

How could he tell the rest of the world? Being this... creature, he doubted anyone would come near him.

Speaking of which, the question came to his mind: What exactly was he?

[i]I'm a Pokemon, that's for sure,[/i] Pocus thought, looking at his claws and flexing them. [i]But what kind?[/i]

[i]My dear, sweet child,[/i] a rumbling, though calm voice resounded through his mind. [i]Fear not, for you have transitioned into a breed I had believed long lost.[/i]

Pocus, strangely, felt no alarm at this sudden intrusion into his mind. The very presence of this being made him feel comforted and loved, blanketing him with anything but fear. He probed cautiously towards the voice and caught his breath again for the second time when he realized who it was behind that voice.

[i]Ar-Arceus!?[/i] Pocus said.

[i]Yes, child,[/i] the Pokemon God hummed. [i]I have always been here, and am overjoyed your transition was successful.[/i]

[i]I... I wasn't truly human?[/i] Pocus said, confused that his whole life may have been a lie.

[i]No, your short life-time as a human was truly that of a human. Your transformation into your current form is the longing of your soul to become something more specialized than that of the human species of Pokemon,[/i] said Arceus.

[i]So it's true then? Humans are merely another form of Pokemon?[/i] Pocus said.

[i]Yes, little one, the most complex species I have ever formed,[/i] Arceus said, [i]perhaps even to the point that they may surpass even my power, one day.[/i]

[i]But... but, you're Arceus![/i]

[i]Fear not for me, as that moment is long in coming, and even when it does, I trust the one that will overpower me,[/i] Arceus said.

[i]Okay... I still don't like it,[/i] Pocus said.

[i]I know what I'm doing,[/i] Arceus assured, [i]but there still remains one issue.[/i]

[i]Wha...what's that?[/i] Pocus said.

[i]The creature you've become is a species so ancient, its name has been lost to memory. Thus, what should we call those like you? There will be more like you, I assure you.[/i]

[i]Well... gee, I don't know. What would you recommend?[/i]

[i]I would recommend that which you are most comfortable with, young one.[/i]

Pocus sighed. He was afraid the deity would answer to that effect.

[i]Fine, if you want to play it that way...[/i]

Pocus thought a few moments, calling upon his vast, though still-limited knowledge. He racked his powerful brain, frustration building despite his newfound patience.

Then he hit upon a name. It had an air of ridiculousness, but also an aura of mystery.

It might work... what did he have to lose?

[i]Why not Kadabra?[/i] Pocus said.

[QUOTE]
Pokedex entry 987: Subject - Pokemon Species #64
It is rumored that, one morning, a boy with particularly strong psychic ability became a Kadabra one morning. Not much is known of this powerful Pokemon, as they are rare in the wild.

Always approach with caution.[/QUOTE]