The atmosphere shifted when the next trainer arrived. A young man with long, vibrant red hair that fell past his shoulders and sharp, piercing silver eyes stepped through the door.
He wore a dark long-sleeved jacket with red trim, black trousers, and heavy boots.
He didn't greet Oak or acknowledge anyone. He scanned the room with those cold eyes, assessed the other trainers as if calculating threat levels, and claimed a seat in the back row with his arms crossed.
"Silver," Oak said neutrally. "Welcome to Pallet Town."
The red-haired trainer grunted but offered no verbal response.
Another young man entered, this one with straight, chin-length purple hair and narrow, cold eyes that reminded me uncomfortably of a predator evaluating prey.
He wore a high-quality purple and gray winter parka, and He stood there with his arms crossed, looking totally uninterested in everything around him.
"Paul," Oak greeted him. "I understand you've traveled all the way from Veilstone City."
"The Sinnoh starters were inadequate," Paul said flatly. "I was told the Kanto program had better options. I expect that assessment to be accurate."
Oak's expression tightened slightly at the implied criticism, but he maintained his professional demeanor. "I'm confident you'll find a suitable partner. Please, take a seat."
Paul moved to sit in the back row near Silver, and the two cold-eyed trainers regarded each other with mutual disinterest.
A loud voice announced the next arrival before the trainer himself appeared.
"Finally! I was starting to think Oak Labs wasn't worth the trip!"
A tall young man with a shock of spiky teal-blue hair strutted into the laboratory wearing a flashy, expensive-looking orange and yellow vest over a black shirt.
His Pokéballs were prominently displayed on a gold-trimmed belt, and his entire demeanor radiated smug superiority.
"Damian," Oak said, and I detected a note of weariness in his voice. "Please keep your voice down. We're waiting for two more trainers."
"Whatever. Just point me toward the strongest Pokémon and we can skip all this ceremony nonsense." He dropped into a chair, sprawling his legs open.
Lyra wrinkled her nose at his attitude. Cheryl looked concerned.
Samurai's expression remained neutral, but I noticed his hand resting on his wooden katana.
The atmosphere grew noticeably colder when the next trainer entered.
A young woman with short, professional silver-gray hair and cold, yellow eyes stepped through the door. She wore a sleek, futuristic gray uniform with high-tech wrist bracers and a visor that could apparently detect thermal signatures.
Everything about her screamed military brat.
She didn't introduce herself or greet Professor Oak. She moved to an empty seat and activated her visor, scanning each Pokémon habitat methodically while taking notes on some internal system.
"Hunter J," Oak said quietly, and I heard something like disappointment in his voice. "I hope you'll remember that these Pokémon are partners, not assets."
The woman with yellow eyes glanced at him briefly, her expression utterly neutral. "Understood, Professor." But her tone suggested she'd heard the lecture before and had no intention of following the advice.
The final trainer, before Ash arrived, wore an air of sophistication that made Damian's flashy vest look cheap by comparison.
A young man with long, neatly groomed brown hair entered wearing an expensive ivory-colored formal suit with a red cravat.
He carried an ornate electronic tablet that looked like it cost more than most people's cars.
"Professor Oak," he said, his voice sounded cultured. "Lawrence Benson the Third. I appreciate your willingness to accommodate my request for this year's cohort."
"Lawrence," Oak acknowledged. "Your family's contributions to Pokémon research are well-known. I trust you'll honor that legacy."
"Of course. I'm particularly interested in rare specimens and potential legendary sightings. My collection requires only the finest additions."
Something about the way he said "collection" made my skin crawl. These weren't partners to him. They were trophies.
Gible pressed against my leg, and I felt his unease.
'Several of these humans smell wrong. Not like the others.'
'I know,' I agreed silently. 'Not everyone here is going to treat their Pokémon well.'
The doors opened one final time, and Ash stumbled in, slightly late and clearly still shaken from yesterday's events. He wore heavy winter gear over his characteristic blue-and-white jacket, and his red cap sat askew on his head.
Those distinct Z-marks on his cheeks were more visible than usual against his pale complexion.
"Sorry, I'm late!" He looked around at the assembled trainers, clearly intimidated by some of the personalities already present. "I, uh... had a rough night."
His eyes found me, and his expression brightened slightly. "Hey, Samael! You're here too!"
Several trainers turned to look at me with new interest. Oak's grandson. That changed how they'd view any interactions we had.
"Ash Ketchum," Oak said gently. "Please, take a seat. We're about to begin."
Ash claimed the last empty chair near the front, and I noticed he positioned himself between Lyra and Cheryl—the two friendliest-looking trainers in the room.
Wise choice, given the predators sitting in the back.
Oak moved to stand at the front of the room, and the low conversations died away.
"Welcome," he began, his voice carrying authority earned through decades of research and training. "You ten represent this year's Pallet Town Cohort. You've been selected from applicants across four regions—Kanto, Johto, Sinnoh, and beyond. Each of you demonstrated potential that warranted this opportunity."
He gestured to the Pokémon habitats behind him.
"In a moment, you'll receive your starter Pokémon. These partners will accompany you on your journey, whether that journey leads to gym challenges, research, coordinating, breeding, or any other path you choose."
Paul shifted impatiently in his seat. Damian looked bored. But Ash, Lyra, Cheryl, and Samurai listened attentively.
"Before we proceed, I need to emphasize something crucial," Oak continued, and his tone hardened. "Your Pokémon are not tools. They are not weapons. They are not collectibles or assets or status symbols."
His eyes moved deliberately across Hunter J, Lawrence, Paul, and Damian as he spoke.
"They are living beings with emotions, desires, and the capacity to form bonds with those who earn their trust. The strongest trainers I've encountered in my fifty years of research were not those who commanded the most powerful Pokémon. They were those who formed genuine partnerships built on mutual respect."