"Samael?"
I snapped out of my evolutionary theorizing, blinking away the mental images of hypothetical Dragon/Steel/Flying Garchomp variants.
The voice was familiar, but there was someone with him.
Gible's eyes shot open, and before I could react, the little Dragon-type had positioned itself between me and the approaching figures.
Its crimson scales bristled, and a low, threatening rumble emanated from its throat.
'That's her,' Gible's mental voice was sharp with recognition and barely contained hostility. 'That's the woman who said I was unfit. The one who gave up on me.'
I looked up to see Professor Oak standing about five meters away, hands raised in a placating gesture. And beside him stood a woman who made my brain temporarily short-circuit.
She looked like she'd walked straight out of a fantasy. Silver-white hair cascaded to her shoulders in soft waves, catching the terrarium's artificial light and making it seem as if she were surrounded by a subtle halo.
Her face was striking—high cheekbones, full lips, and blue eyes so vivid they seemed almost unnatural. But what really caught my attention, what made my gaze linger longer than it probably should have, was her figure.
The short white dress she wore clung to curves that seemed almost mathematically perfect. Her breasts were the biggest I ever seen, straining slightly against the fabric in a way that made it difficult to focus on anything else.
The dress cinched at her waist, emphasizing how narrow it was before flaring out over hips that were wide and perfectly proportioned.
Her legs were long and shapely, visible almost entirely due to the dress's short length. A lab coat was draped casually over her shoulders, but it did nothing to make her look professional.
If anything, it just made her look like she was playing at being a researcher while her body screamed something entirely different.
I realized I was staring, my eyes having traced their way from her face down to her legs and back up again in a slow, appreciative sweep that I absolutely should not have done in front of my grandfather.
The woman's cheeks colored slightly, a faint pink spreading across her pale skin. She noticed. Of course, she noticed.
"Ahem." Professor Oak cleared his throat, and I caught the slight smirk on his face. The old man had definitely seen me checking her out. "Samael, this is Dr. Elara Frost, my research fellow. Elara, my grandson, Samael Oak."
"Who is she?" I asked, directing the question at my grandfather while keeping my eyes on the woman who had apparently deemed Gible worthless.
The defensive growl from my partner hadn't gone unnoticed, and I wasn't about to let anyone who'd hurt Gible get close without answers.
"As I said, my research fellow," Oak repeated patiently. "She's been working with me for the past six months on genetic research and regional variant studies. She's brilliant in her field, despite her youth."
Elara's blush deepened slightly at the compliment, but her attention wasn't on me anymore. Her gaze had fixed on Gible with an intensity that bordered on predatory. Not in a threatening way, but in the way a scientist looks at something that defies everything they thought they knew.
Her blue eyes were wide, pupils dilated, and I swear I saw her actually lick her lips like she was looking at a feast.
"That's incredible," she breathed, taking a step forward. "The coloration, the scale composition, the muscle definition... I've never seen anything like—"
Gible's growl intensified, cutting her off mid-sentence. The little Dragon's maw opened slightly, revealing those steel-sharp teeth, and I felt its agitation bleeding through our mental connection.
'Don't let her touch me. Don't let her near me. She said I was broken. She said I was worthless. She gave up on me.'
"Easy," I said quietly, placing a hand on Gible's head. The crimson scales were warm beneath my palm, almost hot to the touch. "She's not going to hurt you. Not while I'm here."
Professor Oak pulled something from his lab coat pocket. It was his Pokédex, the latest model with its sleek red-and-white casing. He pointed it at Gible, and the device emitted its characteristic scanning sound, a soft electronic hum followed by a series of beeps.
Then the screen flashed red.
"What in the..." Oak muttered, tapping the device's screen. He tried again. Another scan. Another error.
I could hear the text from where I stood:
ERROR: UNKNOWN SPECIES
Genetic Structure: Modified Gible DNA
Does Not Match Any of 493 Known Pokémon
Type Analysis: Dragon/???
WARNING: Unable to Complete Full Analysis
"Modified DNA?" Elara leaned over Oak's shoulder to read the screen, her scientific interest completely overriding any sense of personal space.
"That's not possible. Natural mutations don't trigger error codes. Even the most extreme regional variants register as the base species with notation."
"And yet," Oak said slowly, his weathered face creasing with thought, "here we are. A Gible that my Pokédex—which contains data on every confirmed Pokémon species in the world—cannot identify."
His eyes met mine, and I saw the question in them before he even asked it.
"Samael, we need to examine this Gible. Run proper genetic analysis, full-body scans, and type confirmation tests. Whatever happened here is unprecedented. We need to understand it, to document it properly."
"No."
The word came out firmer than I'd intended, but I didn't soften it. Gible pressed against my leg, still tense and ready to fight if necessary.
"Excuse me?" Elara's tone carried disappointment, and I heard her tongue click against her teeth in frustration. "Samael, you don't understand what you have here. This could be the most significant genetic discovery in decades. We need to..."
"I said no." I kept my voice level but left no room for argument. "I'm the only one examining Gible. This is my project, not yours."
Oak studied me for a long moment, then slowly nodded. "I understand your protectiveness, Samael. I do. But surely you can see that this situation warrants some level of scientific scrutiny."
"I can see that my Gible was deemed defective and abandoned," I replied, feeling Gible's emotional response to my words. The lingering pain from hearing those words.
"I can see that the same people who gave up on it now want to study it like it's some kind of lab specimen."
Elara flinched at that, and some of the color drained from her cheeks.