The morning air was crisp and biting as I helped Oak arrange the final chairs in the laboratory's main hall.
Snow continued to fall outside the windows, blanketing Pallet Town in a pristine white. The starter Pokémon habitats formed a semicircle at the front of the room, each one containing a different partner, a different possible future.
But one habitat stood apart from the others.
A reinforced cage in the corner, separated by several feet of empty space, containing a single injured Riolu.
"Grandfather," I asked, adjusting the last chair, "why is Riolu separated from the others?"
Oak glanced at the cage; his expression looked troubled. "Safety precaution. After what Team Rocket put that poor creature through, we weren't sure how it would react to other Pokémon. The separation reduces stress for everyone involved."
Gible sat beside me, crimson scales gleaming under the laboratory lights.
The little dragon studied the Riolu with interest, noting how the Fighting-type refused to approach the bars, how it kept its back to the corner, watching everything with wary eyes.
'That one is broken,' Gible observed.
"Injured," I corrected quietly. "Not broken. There's a difference."
'Is there? It smells like fear and defeat.'
"For now. But that can change."
My Pokédex buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw the system notification:
[GP THRESHOLD DECISION]
[DEADLINE: 2 HOURS 15 MINUTES REMAINING]
[CHOOSE: A, B, or C]
[FAILURE TO CHOOSE RESULTS IN REWARD FORFEITURE]
I dismissed the notification with a frown. The ceremony would start soon, and I still hadn't decided which option to take. Part of me wanted to choose Option B—understanding genetic mutations and how Prism Transformations worked seemed invaluable for long-term strategy.
But another part wondered if Option C, information on a rare Pokémon, might provide an immediate advantage.
'I'll decide after the ceremony,' I told myself. 'Once I see how things play out here.'
The laboratory doors opened, and Elara entered carrying a stack of League registration forms. She looked up, saw me, and her expression brightened immediately.
"Good morning, Samael! How's Gible feeling?"
"Fully recovered. Ready to watch the ceremony."
"That's wonderful." She set the forms on a nearby table and moved closer, ostensibly to check Gible, but positioning herself firmly between me and the wall where Cynthia had been standing earlier.
"I've been looking forward to today. Seeing new trainers receive their partners is always special."
Before I could respond, Cynthia walked up to me and greeted me.
"Good morning, Samael," she said as she approached me.
"Morning," I replied, suddenly very aware of how both women were positioning themselves relative to me.
Elara's grip on her tablet tightened. "Champion Cynthia. I didn't realize you'd be attending the ceremony."
"Professor Oak invited me. I'm always interested in observing new trainer-Pokémon partnerships." Cynthia moved closer, deliberately casual. "Besides, I wanted to see Samael's Gible one more time before I return to Sinnoh. Such a remarkable specimen."
'Here we go again,' I thought, recognizing the warning signs from yesterday's confrontation.
Fortunately, Oak chose that moment to call out from the entrance. "They're arriving! Everyone, please take your positions."
I gratefully moved to stand beside my grandfather, Gible following at my heels. The tension between Elara and Cynthia would have to wait.
The new trainers began filtering in, and I felt my attention sharpen as I examined each one.
First through the door was a girl with large brown pigtails tucked under a wide-brimmed white-and-red hat. She wore red overalls over a white shirt and carried a massive yellow gear-bag that looked like it weighed half as much as she did. Her eyes were bright with excitement as she took in the laboratory.
"Professor Oak!" She rushed forward, nearly tripping over her own bag. "I'm so excited! I've been preparing for months! I brought everything on the recommended supply list plus extras in case we encounter unexpected weather conditions or—"
"Lyra," Oak said warmly, clearly already familiar with her enthusiasm. "Welcome. Please, take a seat. The others will be arriving shortly."
She nodded eagerly and claimed a chair in the front row, immediately pulling out a notebook and beginning to scribble notes about the visible Pokémon habitats.
The next arrival was quieter but no less striking. A young man in full samurai-style armor, modified for modern travel, stepped through the door with measured grace.
A wooden katana hung at his waist, and beneath his kabuto helmet, I could see a lean, disciplined face with a military-style buzz cut.
He bowed formally to Oak. "Professor. I am honored to be selected for this cohort. I seek to walk the path of the Pokémon warrior."
"Samurai," Oak acknowledged the bow with a nod. "Your dedication to traditional training methods is admirable. Please, make yourself comfortable."
The armored trainer moved to sit in the second row, his posture perfect despite the weight of his equipment.
A girl with long, flowing green hair tied with a simple ribbon entered next. She wore an elegant green dress that seemed ill-suited for Pallet Town's frozen climate, though a heavy wool cloak draped over her shoulders provided some protection. Her green eyes were kind and expressive as she smiled at Oak.
"Professor Oak, thank you so much for this opportunity. I've been studying Pokémon care and forest ecology in preparation."
"Cheryl, welcome. Your background working with the Eterna Forest Rangers will serve you well."
She took a seat near Lyra, and the two girls immediately began a quiet conversation about their respective preparation methods.
The next trainer made no sound when she entered. I didn't even notice her until she spoke, and I jumped slightly at the unexpected voice from the shadows near the wall.
"Professor Oak."
Everyone turned to find a girl with long purple hair tied in a high ponytail standing motionless near the examination tables.
She wore a form-fitting dark lilac ninja outfit with mesh armor and a scarf that partially covered her lower face. Her movements had been entirely silent.
"Janine," Oak said, apparently unsurprised by her stealth. "Your father sends his regards, I assume?"
"He does. Fuchsia Gym continues to prosper under his leadership."
She said nothing more, melting back into the shadows to observe from a distance. I made a mental note not to underestimate that one—anyone who could move that quietly was dangerous.