The week following Albert's exchange with Professor Oak was a blur of deliveries.
Every day, crates and carefully monitored capsules arrived at Stone Manor, each carrying Pokémon entrusted from Oak's Indigo research network or acquired discreetly through Devon's global channels.
By the seventh day, the yard and underground lab were alive with new presences: such as tiny Pichu sparking playfully, wide-eyed Togepi waddling uncertainly, Riolu standing proud but wary, and even the more enigmatic figures like Type: Null, heavy with restraint and silence.
Albert moved among them with the same careful efficiency he had shown with the Eevee.
Clipboard in hand, his perfected emotional resonance instrument slung at his side, he began the work of building their profiles.
Steven trailed close behind, occasionally kneeling to greet a newcomer or jot down notes at Albert's direction.
"Height, weight, visible stats, base temperament…" He dictated aloud for Steven to jot down. "Abilities, responses to stimuli, and—most importantly—emotional resonance."
The instrument, a slender handheld device, emitted soft tones as it measured fluctuations invisible to the human eye.
With it, Albert could quantify the delicate threads that bound Pokémon to trainers—threads that once had been dismissed as unmeasurable feelings.
Steven leaned closer, whispering as he watched the numbers shift with each reading. "It's like they're showing us their hearts in numbers."
Albert allowed himself a small smile. "Exactly. But it's not static. Look—" He gestured to a Riolu who had just arrived.
With Albert's gentle psychic touch, the meter spiked with a warmth nearly double what Oak had logged.
Yet when the Pokémon was briefly passed back to Oak's aide helping with records, its resonance shifted again, settling toward its former values.
Albert tapped the result sharply with his pen. "See? It depends on the bond. Friendship value isn't a fixed measurement—it's relational. It changes with the trainer."
He ran another test with a Cleffa, who clung stubbornly to an Indigo researcher but responded only tepidly to Albert's direct care.
Again, the numbers shifted, pulsing with a rhythm tied to emotional preference.
Albert's mind raced.
This explains why some evolutions seemed random to researchers. It wasn't random at all—it all depended on who raised them.
The friendship value can't be transferred like a stone; it changes with the bond.
Beyond the instruments, Albert was equally meticulous about settling the Pokémon into their new lives.
He walked the grounds with Steven at his side, ensuring that every species had the space best suited to cultivate happiness.
The playful Cleffa, Igglybuff, and Togepi were given a bright corner of the yard with soft mats, toys, and warm sunlight.
The quieter Budew and Chingling were tucked near shaded garden beds, where the earth and wind felt gentler.
Riolu and Buneary had a space open enough to run and spar, while Type: Null was provided a calm, secluded enclosure away from overstimulation.
Joseph observed quietly from the study's threshold, arms crossed.
He said nothing, but his sharp gaze never left Albert's small frame moving between Pokémon, adjusting machines, and speaking softly to each subject.
By the end of the week, Albert had compiled a staggering collection of raw data: friendship value baselines for every one of the twenty species, alongside their physical measures and temperaments.
The yard had transformed into a sanctuary where happiness could flourish, each corner alive with the sound and energy of Pokémon settling into their new homes.
He knew, with quiet certainty, that buried in these numbers lay the hidden pathways to Crobat, Blissey, Lucario, and more.
Albert rested his palm on the casing of the resonance device. It hummed faintly, alive with potential.
"This will prove it," he whispered. "Emotional resonance isn't just real—it's another path to evolution"