The usual stillness of the Research Guild's review chamber had vanished.
Chairs scraped against the tile. Murmurs swelled into heated discussion. A group of researchers crowded around a central display, where a student submission was projected in full.
Title: "Color Aptitude: Sub-Level Differentiation and Its Practical Implications in Pokémon Growth Potential"Author: Ray VirelAffiliation: Cerulean South Academy – Year 2Status: Under Initial Review
It wasn't the author's name that sent shockwaves.
It was the content.
Over seventy pages of dense, evidence-backed theory. Detailed logs of growth patterns, case studies, graphs mapping the correlation between aptitude sublevels and combat ceilings. The paper didn't just propose subcategories within each Aptitude color—it mapped them, named them, and proved they impacted a Pokémon's development curve.
Challenging the Foundation
"This can't be real," said one researcher, flipping through the graphs. "Light Green, Deep Blue—these are fan terms, not science!"
"They were," murmured another, tracing the comparative evolution timelines across species. "But this methodology is repeatable. He's not guessing—he's categorizing. Look at the variance between Machop and Growlithe across aptitude types. It's consistent."
"And he's only in his second year at the academy?" someone whispered, incredulous.
A respected senior researcher shook his head. "It's not just theory. He even devised an observational system for projecting ceiling levels based on sublevel classification. This… is more than promising."
The Guildmaster, silent until now, finally spoke.
"This might be the most disruptive and important submission we've received in a decade."
A Call to Pallet Town
That evening, a secure holocall was made.
The screen blinked to life in a quiet lab in Pallet Town, where Professor Samuel Oak sat sipping his evening tea.
"Yes?" he said, adjusting his glasses as the Guildmaster appeared.
"We have something you need to see."
When the document transferred, Oak scanned the title, then skimmed the summary. His expression slowly shifted—from idle curiosity to serious focus.
He leaned forward.
"Who wrote this?" he asked quietly.
"A student. Ray Virel."
Oak set his tea aside and gave a rare, earnest nod.
"Arrange a meeting. I want to speak with this boy personally."
Message from Silph Co.
Two days later, Ray received a letter at the academy.
It bore the seal of Silph Co.—the corporate giant behind Pokéball innovation and advanced trainer technology.
*Dear Mr. Ray Virel,
We have recently reviewed the summary of your research, forwarded to us by the Cerulean South Guild. The implications of your sub-level aptitude theory have generated considerable excitement among our R&D team.
We would like to invite you for a discussion regarding the possible enhancement of our AptiScope™ line, with potential joint development opportunities.
Please respond at your earliest convenience.*
Ray's breath caught as he reread the message. Silph Co. wanted him?
His instructor, Professor Halden, walked in moments later, holding a printed version of Ray's paper. He placed a hand on Ray's shoulder, a rare smile forming under his mustache.
"Ray… you've started something big. Be ready. The world's about to look at you differently."
Ray looked out the window, Pidgeotto perched nearby, wings folded, watching the sky.
This was just the beginning.
And the name Ray Virel was no longer unknown.