The Devon Corp headquarters had never seen such fever.
Within a week of the conference, announcements rippled across the Pokémon world like lightning:
Leaf Stones and Ice Stones, hoarded quietly by Joseph Stone through months of calculated purchases, were to be released in limited quantities by Devon through exclusive auctions.
The Deford Resonance Meter, Albert's masterpiece, would enter the market in a restricted rollout.
Priority access would be granted to licensed laboratories, universities, and accredited Pokémon research institutions across the globe.
The timing was deliberate as Joseph and Albert had spent months aligning their strategy.
Now, with Albert's name blazing across every scientific journal and broadcast station, the demand for both Stones and Deford Resonance Meters surged beyond imagination.
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The auctions for the Stones began quietly—one in Indigo Realm, another in Silver Republic, mirrored across regions.
But what was intended to be a controlled release quickly became a frenzy.
In the packed Devon Corporation auction hall of Saffron Province, an Ice Stone fetched five times its starting bid within a minute.
The buyer, an Eden Empire aristocrat, raised his paddle without hesitation, declaring he would pay any price.
Leaf Stones fared no differently, snapped up by coordinators hoping to flaunt the rare evolution of Leafeon on stage, and by battle trainers desperate for an edge.
By the end of the first week, every released Stone had been sold, bringing in staggering profits.
Joseph sat in his Devon office late one evening, the bidding figures glowing across his terminal. He gave a low whistle.
"Albert," he said, turning to the boy perched in his chair nearby, "do you know what this means?"
Albert, legs swinging idly, sipped his Oran-berry tea. "That trainers across the regions will scramble for rare Pokémon, yes. But more importantly, it proves that scarcity drives desperation. We can't flood the market yet. It would destroy the credibility of the evolutions we documented."
Joseph smiled, equal parts proud and wary. "Correct. And it means the world is willing to pay almost anything for what you've uncovered."
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If the Stones brought fever, the Resonance Meter ignited a wildfire.
Unlike the Stones, the device wasn't meant for casual trainers.
It was priced steeply, and its release was capped—just a few dozen shipped to major institutions like the Pokémon Institute in Celadon Province, Hearthome's research wing in Pearl Federation, and Eden Empire's prestigious Lumiose University.
Each recipient was hand-selected after consultation between Oak, Joseph, and Albert himself.
Within days, scientific journals and broadcast stations were flooded with reports of the first verification experiments.
Researchers tested friendship curves in Pichu, noted resonance spikes in Togepi, and mapped emotional baselines in Riolu.
Trainers watching from afar felt the ground shift beneath them: these Pokémon evolutions were no longer a mystery cloaked in superstition, but something quantifiable, observable, even manufacturable.
Demand for the meter skyrocketed.
Black markets began whispering about stealing prototypes, and foreign companies scrambled to file patent challenges—none of which could touch Devon's airtight protections.
And through it all, half the profits rolled to Albert's name, the other half to Joseph, their partnership sealed and balanced.
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But if the profits established Albert as a scientific and economic force, the backlash established him as a political one.
Concerns were raised: how could such a young child wield knowledge reshaping the foundation of Pokémon evolution? Was it ethical? Was he being manipulated? And above all, why did he hide his face beneath that psychic veil?
Certain forces demanded full disclosure.
Was Deford truly a child? A front for Devon Corp? Or something more sinister?
The IPA's board debated heatedly on a response, but before long, the Evergreen Island League intervened. Representatives from the island where Albert was born and registered as a citizen declared publicly:
"Researcher Deford is one of our own. His intellect, though extraordinary, is his alone. He is not a puppet nor a fabrication. His privacy and protection are non-negotiable. We consider him a national treasure, and any attempt to discredit or endanger him will be met with the full force of our laws and our allies."
The declaration reverberated across regions
Suddenly, Deford was more than a scientist—he was a symbol.
Nations whispered of poaching him away, while Evergreen made it clear he would remain under their protection.
Some called him the "Child Prodigy of Evolution."
Others muttered about him as a dangerous "weapon of knowledge."
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Albert himself remained distant from the storm, cloaked as ever in his psychic veil.
But even he could not ignore the way whispers followed him when he ventured into public spaces, or how reporters camped outside Devon's headquarters begging for a glimpse.
Joseph shielded him where he could, handling press inquiries and political negotiations with the practiced grace of a corporate giant.
Steven, meanwhile, became Albert's shadow when school allowed—walking with him through the crowded laboratories, making sure he ate meals when he forgot, pulling him away from intrusive journalists with a quiet but firm, "He's busy."
One evening, after a particularly long day, Albert sat on the balcony of the manor with Steven at his side.
The stars glittered above, the sea stretched endlessly, and the faint cries of Wingull echoed on the wind.
"Do you ever feel like it's too much?" Steven asked softly.
Albert tilted his head. "The fame?"
"The pressure. The spotlight. Everyone is expecting you to solve everything."
Albert was quiet for a long moment. Then he smiled faintly, though Steven couldn't see it through the veil. "It's… hard, like a certain pressure exerted on me everywhere I go. I used to be no one in the world. Now, it sees me too much. Both extremes are lonely."
Steven hesitated, but eventually reached out and gently tugged Albert's sleeve. "Well, you're not alone here. Not anymore."
Albert glanced at him, then let out the softest laugh. "That's why I'm not afraid."
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But the world outside was restless.
In Indigo Realm, underground betting rings formed around who could obtain a Resonance Meter first.
In Pearl Federation, religious sects decried the devices as tampering with divine mysteries.
In Grayscale Kingdom, tech companies raced to replicate the technology, failing repeatedly.
Meanwhile, prominent professors began publishing papers citing Albert's findings.
Some praised him outright, others carefully avoided his name while relying on his data.
The academic world, unused to such a disruptive force, struggled to adjust.
And still, the demand for Stones and Deford Resonance Meters grew.
Joseph orchestrated auctions with careful scarcity, ensuring prices remained sky-high. In backrooms, where foreign ministers requested private demonstrations, Devon politely refused.
The legend of Albert Deford only grew.
Yet for all the frenzy, the heart of it remained simple.
A child, barely five, had rewritten the rules of evolution.
His inventions now rested in the hands of professors worldwide. His discoveries had created both wealth and unease. His veil protected him, but also made him a myth.
The IPA and Evergreen League had drawn their lines: he was to be defended, shielded, preserved.
His name was now inseparable from the politics of power.
But within Stone Manor, the truth remained humbler.
Albert spent his evenings refining notes, checking resonance data, and ensuring Pokémon in his care were happy.
Joseph spent long nights balancing ledgers and writing letters to stave off political pressure, while Steven lingered wherever Albert went, half a guardian, half a friend.
The world might have seen a national treasure, a prodigy, a political asset.
But within the manor, they saw simply Albert Deford—a boy who loved Pokémon too much to stop learning about them.
And perhaps, that was why he bore the world's expectations so quietly: because to him, the science mattered more than the spectacle.