A grand staircase that curved down to a foyer large enough to host a small concert.
This is the Oak Estate, I realized, descending the stairs carefully. This is where Professor Oak lives and works. This is—
"Samael, finally!" The voice came from an open doorway to my left. "I was beginning to think you'd sleep through the entire morning!"
I followed the voice and stepped into what could only be described as a laboratory.
Not the small, cozy research space I remembered from the anime. This was industrial. Rows of computer terminals, monitoring equipment, containment units with softly glowing panels, and shelves packed with Pokédexes in various states of assembly.
And in the center of it all, standing beside a holographic display showing what looked like genetic sequences, was Professor Oak.
He looked exactly how I remembered—if you added a few more years and a lot more expensive equipment. White lab coat, kind eyes, that grandfatherly smile that had welcomed countless trainers to their journeys.
"Good morning, Grandfather," I said, the word feeling strange on my tongue.
"Morning? It's nearly noon!" Oak laughed, gesturing me closer. "Though I suppose I can't fault you. You were up late working on that breeding compatibility paper, weren't you?"
I blinked. I was?
The system interface flickered, and new information appeared:
[MEMORY INTEGRATION: 15%]
[Previous life memories available. Host body memories loading...]
Oh. Right. I'm not just possessing an empty shell. The original Samael Oak existed. He had a life, memories, and apparently wrote academic papers on Pokémon breeding.
"Yeah," I said carefully. "The Ditto paradox was giving me trouble."
Oak's expression brightened. "Ah! Did you resolve the compatibility issue with the Genderless Egg Group?"
I had no idea what he was talking about, but something in the back of my mind—some fragment of memory that wasn't quite mine—whispered the answer.
"Still working on it," I hedged. "But I think I'm close."
"Excellent, excellent." Oak turned back to his holographic display, manipulating the genetic sequences. "Well, I wanted to catch you before you disappeared into your research again. You have one month until your eighteenth birthday. Two weeks until you can apply for your Trainer's Card. And then it will be delivered back home before you begin your official journey."
My heart rate spiked. One month.
"I know you're eager," Oak continued, "but I want you to spend this time wisely. You've studied the theory—now you need practical experience. Understanding Pokémon on an academic level is one thing. Bonding with them, communicating with them, truly knowing them. That'swhat separates trainers from masters."
He gestured toward a large elevator at the back of the lab, disguised to look like a section of bookshelf.
"The terrarium below houses specimens from Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, and Sinnoh. Spend time with them. Observe their behaviors. Learn their languages, so to speak." Oak smiled. "Consider it your final homework assignment before graduation."
A terrarium. An underground habitat full of Pokémon from four different regions.
I tried not to look too excited. "I can just... go down there? Interact with them?"
"Of course! Though—" Oak's expression turned serious. "Stay away from the eastern tunnel network. I've relocated some... difficult specimens down there. Pokémon that aren't socializing well with the others. I'm still trying to figure out how to reach them, communicate with them properly."
Problem Pokémon. In a restricted area.
My inner Nuzlocke addict practically salivated.
"I'll be careful," I promised, already heading toward the elevator.
"Samael," Oak called after me. "I mean it. Some of those Pokémon are genuinely dangerous. Don't take unnecessary risks."
"I won't!" I called back, stepping into the elevator.
The doors closed, and I grinned at my reflection in the polished metal.
Dangerous Pokémon in a restricted area. This is precisely where I need to be.
The elevator descended for what felt like an impossibly long time. When the doors finally opened, I stepped out into something that defied explanation.
This isn't a terrarium. This is a nature preserve.
The ceiling—if you could call it that—was so high I could barely see it, illuminated by artificial sunlight that felt startlingly real. The space stretched out in every direction, divided into distinct biomes: forests, wetlands, rocky terrain, and open fields. And everywhere, everywhere, there were Pokémon.
A Bayleef grazed near a crystal-clear stream. A family of Sentret played in the grass. A Combusken sparred with a Machop on a training ground.
A Milotic surfaced in a deep pond, its scales catching the artificial sunlight like a liquid rainbow.
I activated Prism Eye without thinking, and the world transformed.
Silver glows appeared everywhere, like stars scattered across the landscape. Some were faint—barely visible wisps around common Pokémon. Others were slightly brighter and more intense, marking specimens with genuine potential.
However, none of them approached me, and none seemed to have the potential I was looking for.
I walked through the habitats, and Pokémon watched from a distance. Curious but cautious. Interested but not engaging.
A Growlithe sniffed in my direction, then turned away. A Natu stared at me with unsettling intensity before teleporting elsewhere.
They don't recognize me, I realized. Or maybe they sense something's different. That I'm not the Samael they knew.
I continued deeper, following winding paths through increasingly wild terrain, until I found it.
A tunnel entrance.
Large, dark, marked with warning signs in multiple languages: RESTRICTED AREA — AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.
And from deep within that darkness, I heard it. A low, rumbling growl that resonated in my chest. Not threatening, but almost as if it were calling out to me.
That's when I saw a bright silver glow lead down into the cavern.
A silver glow so bright it was almost painful to look at, pulsing in the darkness like a dying star.
Something down there had incredible potential.
Professor Oak's voice echoed in my head: Don't take unnecessary risks.
I looked back at the safe, well-lit terrarium behind me. Then I looked ahead into the dark tunnel.
"Yeah," I muttered, stepping into the darkness. "That was never going to happen."