The calibration lights blinked green, one after another, until the final scan completed. A hush settled over the Silph Co. field laboratory as everyone stared at the monitor.
Displayed on the screen was a Luxio. But more importantly, the data output below it:
Species: LuxioAptitude: GreenSublevel: Core GreenCombat Class Estimate: Intermediate-ClassGrowth Projection Threshold: 46.8
Dr. Lysand leaned closer. His eyes didn't blink as he read the lines again.
"…Confirmed," he whispered. "We've officially achieved stable sublevel recognition."
Gasps turned into applause. Some engineers who had been holding their breath exhaled audibly. Someone from the data team raised both hands like they'd won a championship. The head programmer dropped into a chair, laughing. Even the tech assistant by the calibration table gave Ray a respectful thumbs-up.
Ray took a deep breath, watching the celebration unfold around him.
They had done it.
It had taken months of careful testing, debugging, refining the algorithm models, and constant feedback loops. Ray had spent hours refining the mathematical framework for how sublevels should be interpreted—and now it was real. Working. Verified.
Dr. Lysand came over, grinning as he extended a hand. "Ray, this is historic. Do you understand? You've helped elevate Pokémon aptitude science in a way no one's done before."
"I just… helped figure out what was missing," Ray replied, shaking his hand. "It was a team effort."
The researcher chuckled. "No modesty now. Without your system of layered indicators, we'd still be guessing."
Later that day, when the team wrapped up and packed away their core equipment, Ray returned home.
His parents were waiting for him in the living room, both holding a letter marked with the Silph Co. seal.
"This came by courier," his father said. "It's addressed to you."
Ray took the envelope with slightly trembling fingers. He opened it and unfolded the papers.
Initial Licensing Payment – ₽450,000In accordance with the development agreement between Silph Co. and Ray Virel, this amount is issued as an initial development fee upon successful completion of the Aptitude Measurement Unit - eXperimental (AMU-X).
Ray blinked. "This… this is real?"
"It is," his mother said gently. "It's not part of the sales share—just the upfront payment for your contribution."
His father added, "The actual revenue share comes later, when the machine goes into commercial distribution. But this... this is already a life-changing amount."
Ray sat down slowly, the letter still in his hands. A part of him felt like it wasn't real. But the warmth in his parents' faces told him otherwise.
His mother came over and hugged him. "We're proud of you, sweetheart. Not just for this—" she gestured toward the letter—"but for the kind of person you are. Your vision, your drive, your kindness toward Pokémon."
His father nodded. "Most kids your age are still just dreaming. You made something real. And it's going to help a lot of people."
That night, they celebrated quietly.
A homemade dinner, laughter at the table, and stories of when Ray was younger. Pidgeotto roosted near the open window, watching over the house with practiced calm. Dratini—still without a Pokéball, and known only to the family—coiled up beside Ray's bed, softly breathing as he slept.
There were no reporters, no trophies, no flashing lights.
Just peace. And promise.
Ray stood by the window before sleeping, staring out at the stars. Somewhere out there, the world was shifting. And he was part of it.
Tomorrow, the work would continue.
But tonight? Tonight, Ray Virel allowed himself a smile.