The soft hum of Lumora City’s early morning filtered through Isabelle’s window, casting streaks of golden light across the room. The cool morning air still carried the lingering scent of last night’s Neon Night Arcade—fried snacks, neon lights, and the electric charge of battles that had kept her adrenaline pumping well into the late hours. Now, the city had returned to its usual rhythm, the distant hum of hover-bikes and early-rising Pidgey filling the quiet.

  She stirred, her limbs reluctant to move from the warmth of her sheets. Last night had been exhilarating, an unexpected mix of fun and overwhelming moments. The Orbital Clique had proven themselves a lively, charismatic bunch, and for once, Isabelle had let herself be swept up in the energy. Watching Red battle had been… something else entirely. It wasn’t just skill. It was dominance. Complete, effortless mastery.

  A groggy chirp snapped her out of her thoughts. Azzy, curled up beside her, stretched her tiny arms and let out a wide yawn.

  “Yeah, yeah, I know,” Isabelle muttered, rubbing her eyes. “Time to get up.”

  She pushed herself upright, wincing as her hair fell into her face. A tangled mess. Of course. The ribbons she had tied in last night were barely clinging on, one pink and one purple, each hanging limply against the chaos of black strands.

  “I swear I didn’t roll around in my sleep that much.”

  Azzy chirped again, this time more insistent, bouncing toward the edge of the bed as if to say, We have places to be!

  Right. The Professor.

  Her father had all but nudged her out the door for this. Ever the supportive, insistent force in her life, émile had made it clear that she needed to visit Professor Ardene. They had met briefly during Virelia Power Play, when the League’s Power Division had stepped in to stabilize the crisis at the energy presentation. Ardene had been composed, focused—but she had also been kind, telling Isabelle that she welcomed new trainers and that her doors were always open.

  So why did this feel like a test she wasn’t prepared for?

  The bathroom mirror was less than forgiving, reflecting a tired face framed by an unruly mess of black hair, tangled from sleep. Her hazel eyes, still heavy with lingering drowsiness, scrutinized the disarray, lips pressing into a slight frown. It wasn’t the worst she’d ever looked, but it certainly wasn’t great either. Isabelle scowled at her reflection, dragging a comb through her wild knots with barely concealed frustration. Her ribbons were salvageable, at least, and after a solid ten minutes, she managed to wrangle her hair into something less disastrous. The ribbons settled back into place—her own small piece of familiarity in an otherwise unpredictable city life.

  Dressed in a comfortable but stylish outfit—a simple blouse tucked into a modest skirt, both with subtle ribbon accents—she felt as prepared as she was going to be. Azzy hopped onto her shoulder as she grabbed her bag, her tiny tail bouncing with excitement. Isabelle adjusted the strap, feeling the slight but noticeable weight of the encrypted drive inside. It was still there, waiting—just like the questions it carried. She exhaled, rolling her shoulders as if shaking off the weight of her nerves. Today was just another step forward—one she couldn't avoid, no matter how unprepared she felt.

  “All set?” Isabelle asked.

  Azzy let out an enthusiastic squeak.

  The smell of coffee greeted Isabelle as she stepped into the kitchen. émile was already seated, a steaming mug in his hands and a fresh plate of toast and eggs waiting at her spot.

  “Morning, sweetheart,” he said, smiling as she sat down. “Sleep okay?”

  “Yeah,” Isabelle said, though her brain was still playing back the neon lights and the sharp, calculated moves of Red’s battle. “Didn’t want to wake up, though.”

  Her father chuckled, sipping his coffee. “Big day today.”

  She chewed on a bite of toast, nodding. “If by ‘big’ you mean mildly terrifying, then yeah.”

  émile raised a brow. “Terrifying? Isabelle, you’re meeting a professor, not fighting a Garchomp.”

  ““She’s one of the best minds in the region,” Isabelle countered, picking at the crust of her toast. “What if I, oh I don’t know, accidentally insult her entire field of research and get blacklisted from the League?”

  émile sighed, setting down his coffee. “Just mind your manners, Isabelle. No swearing, no unnecessary sarcasm—”

  “Yeah, yeah, no ‘oh for Arceus’ sake’ or ‘what in Giratina’s ass,’” Isabelle interjected with a lazy wave of her hand. “I get it.”

  Her father gave her a pointed look but smirked despite himself. “I was going to say be polite, but sure, let’s start with avoiding divine obscenities.”

  Isabelle rolled her eyes dramatically. “Yes, father dearest, I shall be the pinnacle of etiquette. I shall bow and curtsy, refer to the Professor only as ‘Your Eminence,’ and speak in the most refined accent known to mankind.”

  émile sighed, though amusement flickered in his expression. “Just try not to call a legendary researcher ‘dude’ within the first five minutes.”

  “Hey, no promises,” Isabelle said, grinning. “But I’ll try my best not to traumatize the scientific community.”

  émile chuckled, standing as he finished his coffee. He moved toward the door, leaning against the frame as Isabelle grabbed her bag. “You’ll do great, kiddo. Just remember—deep breaths, and don’t overthink it.”

  Isabelle rolled her eyes but smiled. “Yeah, yeah. And if all else fails, I’ll just run away and change my name.”

  Her father ruffled her hair fondly. “Let’s try to avoid that. Now go on, before you overanalyze your way into staying home.”

  With a final wave, Isabelle took a steadying breath and stepped out the door, Azzy bouncing lightly on her shoulder. Time to face whatever awaited her at the lab.

  The streets of Lumora City were already alive with movement. Holographic ads shimmered in the air, rotating between Pokémon League updates, the latest battle gear, and upcoming Contest promotions. Isabelle glanced up as a Rotom drone zipped by, displaying a colorful promo for Lumora’s next big event.

  “Think we should enter a Contest, Azzy?” she mused. “Maybe we’d get lucky.”

  Azzy chirped indignantly, clearly unimpressed.

  “Yeah, yeah, bad idea,” Isabelle laughed. “We’d get obliterated by some Sylveon, huh?”

  The League HQ loomed in the distance, but just down the street was her destination: Professor Ardene’s Lab. A sleek, modern building with a welcoming touch—a PokéBall emblem above the door, a symbol of discovery and innovation.

  This is it.

  Taking a deep breath, Isabelle adjusted her bag strap and stepped inside.

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  The air immediately shifted. Cool, sterile, but with a vibrancy that made it feel alive. The hum of machinery blended with the soft sounds of Pokémon, the walls lined with interactive screens showcasing different species and their habitats.

  A young woman at the reception desk looked up, offering a polite smile. “Good morning! How can I help you?”

  “I’m here to see Professor Ardene,” Isabelle said, hoping her voice sounded steadier than she felt. “She, uh, mentioned I could stop by.”

  The receptionist nodded, checking a schedule. “She’s currently giving a tour to a school group. You’re welcome to wait, or—” she motioned to a hallway where laughter echoed, “—you can join them if you’d like.”

  Join… the school tour? Isabelle hesitated. Great. Just what she needed—an audience of children.

  Azzy, however, had no such reservations. She chirped excitedly, her little tail bobbing.

  “Well,” Isabelle muttered, sighing, “I guess we’re crashing a field trip.”

  The Hybrid Habitat Zone was breathtaking.

  A massive glass ceiling let in golden morning light, illuminating an indoor sanctuary teeming with Pokémon. Aipom swung from branches, a Leafeon stretched lazily under an artificial sunbeam, and Poliwag splashed in a winding stream. It was nothing like the labs Isabelle had imagined—it was a living, breathing ecosystem.

  Professor Ardene, tall and composed, gestured toward a massive fossil display as she spoke to the gathered children. “This is a Rampardos skeleton—one of Virelia’s ancient Pokémon. Millions of years ago, these creatures roamed dense forests, using their thick skulls to charge at enemies and establish dominance in their packs.”

  She stepped aside, allowing the children a better view of the imposing fossil. A holo-screen nearby displayed an artistic reconstruction of Rampardos in its prime, stomping through prehistoric landscapes, its head lowered in mid-charge. A few gasps of excitement rippled through the group as the screen animated the Pokémon’s raw power, slamming into a rock formation with enough force to crack it in half.

  Ardene smiled at their reaction. "Despite their fearsome nature, they were highly intelligent and fiercely protective of their young. Fossil studies show that they likely moved in family units, much like modern Pokémon do today."

  One of the younger children raised a hand. "Did they go extinct because they hit things too hard?"

  A chuckle spread through the group, and Ardene nodded thoughtfully. "Not quite. Changes in climate, shifting food supplies, and the emergence of new species all played a role in their decline. But their legacy lives on—some Pokémon today, like Cranidos, still carry traces of their ancestry."

  Isabelle lingered at the edge of the group, unsure. Was I intruding?

  Then—

  “Look! She has an Azurill!” A boy’s voice rang out.

  Immediately, dozens of little eyes locked onto her.

  Azzy, the show-stealer she was, puffed up proudly as the children swarmed closer, eager to pet her. Isabelle could only stand there, heat rushing to her face, as a girl asked, “Is she friendly? Can I hold her?”

  Professor Ardene’s gaze met hers, appraising yet warm. “Why don’t you join us?”

  Isabelle swallowed. Guess I’m in this now.

  With Azzy chirping excitedly, she stepped forward, deeper into the sanctuary. Whatever came next… well, she’d figure it out.

  With Azzy chirping excitedly, she stepped forward, deeper into the sanctuary, falling into step with the tour group. Professor Ardene led them through the lush greenery, pointing out various Pokémon thriving in the carefully designed habitat. A Tropius lazily stretched its wings near a sunlamp, while a small group of Eevee played near a gently flowing brook.

  As they moved past an observation deck overlooking the Starter Pokémon Wing, Ardene explained, “This is where we introduce new Trainers to potential partners. Before making their choice, they spend time bonding through play sessions and trust-building exercises. It’s not just about strength—it’s about compatibility.”

  Isabelle couldn’t help but peer down at the young trainers below, each tentatively interacting with their prospective Pokémon. Some were timid, others eager. She thought back to when she first met Azzy, a little bundle of energy who had been just as unsure about her as she had been about training.

  She hesitated, watching Ardene speak with a few of the children, answering questions with calm patience. This was the person she was supposed to talk to, to ask… what, exactly? Isabelle wasn’t sure. Her father had urged her to visit, but now that she was here, the words wouldn’t come.

  As the tour began winding down, Ardene turned toward her, giving her an expectant look. "Stay back for a moment, Isabelle. We can talk once the group moves along."

  Isabelle exhaled. Guess it’s time to figure out what I actually came here for.

  Isabelle crossed her arms, glancing at the bag slung over her shoulder. The encrypted drive sat inside, a quiet weight she hadn't thought about much since retrieving it from the Team Eclipse grunt. That night still lingered in the back of her mind—Milo’s determination, the way her heart had pounded as they barely escaped. She had no idea what was on the drive, only that it could be something dangerous, something worth hiding.

  And now here she was, standing in one of the most prestigious research facilities in Virelia, about to talk to a woman who had direct ties to the League. If there was anyone who could make sense of what she was holding, it was Professor Ardene. But would she even tell Isabelle anything? Team Eclipse was still largely an enigma, and the League wasn’t keen on getting young trainers involved in such matters. Ardene might brush her off, tell her to hand it over and forget about it.

  The idea of that bothered her more than it should. Isabelle wasn’t some clueless kid running around on a whim. She had been dragged into this, whether she liked it or not.

  A subtle shift in the air made her pause. The lab’s ambient hum seemed to stretch and warp around her, a soft distortion that made the sterile walls feel almost alive. Her reflection caught in the polished surface of a nearby holo-screen, and for a second, she saw her mental projection smirking back at her, arms folded. The same unreadable expression, the same confident posture—except this version of her belonged nowhere and everywhere at once.

  She blinked, and suddenly, it was standing beside her in the open space, leaning against a desk cluttered with research notes on Pokémon temperament.

  Before she could dwell on the thought, a familiar voice echoed in her mind, seeming to ripple through the low hum of the laboratory. Even the soft beep of machines felt like a reaction to its presence, as if the environment itself acknowledged the intruder in her thoughts.

  Finally, you start thinking.

  “Shit, where the hell did you come from?” Isabelle muttered, taking a half-step away before realizing how ridiculous that was. “Does this just happen? Can I control when you show up, or is this going to be an ongoing nightmare?”

  The projection—herself, but not—arched a brow. Wouldn’t you like to know?

  “Oh, fantastic. Cryptic and annoying. You really are me.”

  The projection chuckled. You’re floundering, Isabelle. You don’t even know why you’re here. But I do.

  Isabelle scowled. “Oh yeah? Then please, enlighten me.”

  You’re stuck. You don’t know what path to take. You could keep studying—boring. You could get a job like dear old Dad—yuck. The projection tilted its head, watching her closely. Or you could do what everyone else your age is doing. Get your Trainer license. Start training. Move forward.

  Isabelle exhaled sharply. “That’s what you think I should do?”

  It’s what we should do. The projection took a step closer, lowering its voice. You’re not the type to sit around and let things happen to you. You’ve already stepped into something much bigger, and whether you like it or not, you need to be ready for whatever comes next.

  A chill ran down Isabelle’s spine. “You’re talking about Team Eclipse.”

  I’m talking about everything. The projection leaned in. You want to sit around and wait for things to happen? Or do you want to take control?

  It was a dangerous line of thinking, and Isabelle knew it. But it wasn’t exactly wrong either. She let out a breath, shaking her head. “This manipulation thing of yours is really effective, huh?”

  The projection grinned. It’s not manipulation if it’s the truth.

  Before Isabelle could respond, the presence faded—not abruptly, but as though it dissolved into the hum of the lab, blending back into the rhythmic flickering of monitors and the distant, muffled voices of researchers at work. She rubbed her temple, willing away the lingering unease before she heard Professor Ardene clear her throat.

  “You looked like you were deep in thought,” the Professor noted, her gaze sharp but not unkind.

  Isabelle straightened. “Something like that.”

  Ardene gestured toward the corridor leading deeper into the lab. “Come with me. You have questions, and I suspect I have some of the answers you’re looking for.”

  With Azzy nestled firmly on her shoulder, Isabelle followed, a swirl of uncertainty and quiet determination settling in her chest. Maybe she really was about to figure out why she was here after all—or at least, she hoped so.