"This Gible weighs approximately eighty pounds," he said, setting Gible back down gently. "A standard Gible at this size should be around forty-five pounds. Nearly double the expected weight."
Elara, who had been keeping her distance but furiously taking notes on her own tablet, looked up sharply. "Muscle density increase? Bone structure reinforcement?"
"Both, I suspect," Oak replied. "The scales alone wouldn't account for that much additional mass. The entire skeletal and muscular system must have been enhanced during whatever transformation occurred."
He moved to examine Gible's teeth next, and the little Dragon obligingly opened its mouth to reveal rows of gleaming, razor-sharp fangs.
"These teeth," Oak staggered, his scientific fascination overriding any sense of danger. "They're not just sharper—they're denser. The composition is harder, more metallic. These could bite through steel."
"Because Gible is Steel-type now," I said, deciding it was time to share that particular detail.
The silence that followed was profound.
Oak slowly turned to look at me, his expression caught somewhere between shock and excitement. "What did you say?"
"Gible is Dragon/Steel type," I repeated, watching as both researchers processed this information. "Not Dragon/Ground like a normal Gible. The Transformation changed its typing entirely."
"That's..." Elara started, then stopped, apparently unable to find words. "That's not possible. Type changes don't occur naturally. Even in the most extreme cases of regional adaptation, the type shifts only happen with evolutions."
"And yet," I said, echoing Oak's earlier words, "here we are."
Oak had gone very still, his tablet forgotten in his hands. "Dragon and Steel. A type combination that shouldn't exist in any Gible evolutionary line. The defensive capabilities alone would be extraordinary. Resistant to ten different types, weak to only Fighting and Ground..."
"And when it evolves?" Elara interjected, her earlier caution completely abandoned in the face of this revelation. "If it maintains Dragon/Steel through to Garchomp, that would create one of the most defensively sound Pokémon in existence. Will it retain its Ground type?"
"Are for me to figure out," I cut in, reminding her that this was still my Pokémon, my project. "But yes. The typing is unprecedented."
Professor Oak set down his tablet and looked at me with an expression I'd never seen before—raw, unbridled curiosity mixed with awe.
"Samael, I need to know. How did this happen? What did you do down in those tunnels that could cause a transformation this profound?"
I'd been preparing for this question, working out how much to reveal without exposing the Genetic Architect System—the truth, but not the whole truth.
"I can see things other people can't," I began carefully. "When I look at certain Pokémon, I see a glow around them. A silver glow that indicates hidden potential, the possibility for greatness that nobody else can detect."
Elara and Oak exchanged glances, and I continued before they could interrupt.
"I saw that glow around Gible when I found it in the tunnels. The other Gibles were attacking it, being beaten down and left for dead. But I could see it. This incredible potential trapped inside a body that everyone else had written off as defective."
"And then what?" Oak prompted gently.
"I don't know exactly," I admitted, which was technically accurate. I knew the system had done it, but I didn't understand the mechanism. "I approached Gible, connected with it somehow, and the transformation just... happened. The silver glow intensified, and then Gible changed. The color shifted, its body strengthened, and suddenly it was what I'd seen in that glow all along."
I met my grandfather's eyes directly. "I can see a Pokémon's hidden potential. And I'm going to make it my mission to prove to the world that there are Pokémon out there—variants, mutations, evolutions—that nobody has ever documented. Gible is just the first."
Oak studied me for a long moment, and I saw the skepticism warring with belief in his expression. But I also noticed something else—pride. Pride that his grandson had discovered something this extraordinary.
"You've never lied to me before," he finally said. "I don't believe you're starting now. But Samael, what you're describing... the ability to see hidden potential in Pokémon, to somehow trigger transformations through connection alone... that's not a documented ability. There are theories about empathic resonance between trainers and Pokémon, but nothing that would explain this."
"Then maybe the theories are incomplete," I replied. "Maybe there are aspects of the human-Pokémon bond that we don't understand yet."
Elara had been quiet during this exchange, but now she spoke up, her voice thoughtful.
"There are documented cases of trainers with unusual sensitivities. There are certain gym leaders who can lift an Arcaine. And certain individuals throughout history have reported heightened awareness of Pokémon's emotions and potential. If Samael has a natural gift for this kind of perception..."
"It would explain how he knew to choose this particular Gible," Oak finished. "And possibly how he triggered the transformation."
I didn't correct them. Let them theorize about natural gifts and empathic resonance. It was close enough to the truth to be believable, and it kept the Genetic Architect System safely hidden.
"Regardless of the mechanism," Oak continued, "the result is undeniable. You've created, or discovered, or awakened, something that shouldn't exist according to our current understanding of Pokémon genetics."
He looked down at Gible, who had been remarkably patient during all of this discussion but was now showing signs of restlessness.
"Samael, I assume you're planning to take Gible with you when you begin your journey?"
"Of course," I said immediately. "Gible is my partner. We're in this together."
Oak nodded as if he'd expected that answer. "Then I strongly suggest you spend the next few weeks training. Gible is currently at Level 1, correct?"
I blinked, surprised he knew that. Then I remembered that he'd been studying Pokémon his entire life—he could probably estimate a Pokémon's level just from observing it.
"How did you—"
"My Pokédex," Oak explained. "I upgraded to see basic information, which includes level but not stats."
He pulled up something on his tablet, showing me what looked like a map of the terrarium zones.