Time had a strange way of slipping past Albert Deford.
One moment, he was a child of five, carefully tucked behind psychic veils while the world buzzed about his discoveries.
And suddenly, the years seemed to tumble forward in great leaps, each marked by trials, victories, and the unshakable support of those around him.
What had once been whispered as an impossible genius was now written plainly into the record of exams, publications, and recognition.
By the time Albert turned sixteen, the boy who had first shocked the research world was standing firmly on the edge of adulthood.
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The first great leap came at age seven: the Intermediate Exams.
For most children, seven was the age of running through fields with their first starter or struggling through basic arithmetic.
For Albert, it meant standing at the gates of the International Pokémon Association's examination hall, three separate Intermediate Exams awaiting him: one for researcher, one for breeder, and one for doctor.
Each exam carried two halves—a written portion that tested knowledge of theory, and a practical portion that demanded demonstration in controlled environments.
Most candidates are prepared for years under tutors, working apprenticeships in labs or clinics.
Albert, however, had spent his years in the quiet of the Stone Manor, balancing stacks of books, lab equipment, and psychic-assisted memory recall.
Skepticism filled the examination chamber before he even arrived.
Professors and evaluators whispered behind their clipboards.
"A seven-year-old? This must be a joke."
"Oak may have vouched for him, but surely this is just some political stunt."
The veil of disbelief hung heavily, but Albert walked in quietly, hands clasped neatly, eyes focused.
He wasn't here to argue. He was here to perform.
The written sections were dispatched with unnerving speed.
Where other candidates labored for the full allotted time, Albert finished in half, writing in crisp, precise strokes.
His answers revealed not only correct knowledge but depth, citing obscure historical experiments, weaving in equations that linked resonance fields to metabolic rates, causing evaluators to exchange glances.
The practical sessions sealed it.
For the breeder's exam, he demonstrated perfect handling of a young Mareep, calming its static discharge with nothing but careful touch and a soft hum.
For the doctor's exam, he diagnosed a staged poisoning in record time, applying an antidote with flawless precision.
For research, he presented a micro-experiment on nutrient variance in soils affecting Oddish growth, charting his results on the spot.
By the end of the day, the whispers had shifted.
"That child…"
"He passed everything perfectly."
"Not just passed — record time, again."
The results came in: Albert Deford, Intermediate Rank in all three professions—researcher, breeder, and doctor.
The youngest in history.
When he returned home to the Stone Manor, Joseph lifted him high in a rare break of composure, laughing with pride.
Steven ruffled his hair, smiling gently while Sister Maribel pressed his hands together in a prayer of thanksgiving. Percy, on the other hand, cried openly, muttering something about Albert making everyone else look lazy.
Albert, however, only smiled quietly. To him, this was simply one step forward.
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At age ten, the challenge grew steeper.
The Advanced Exams.
This time, the halls were not filled with whispers of disbelief but with expectation.
By now, Albert's name had become familiar across academic circles.
The evaluators leaned forward, pens ready to see if lightning would strike twice.
The written portions had grown broader, demanding a synthesis of different fields, which Albert was ready for.
He drew on not only his own work but his strange past-life recollections, framing every answer with clarity and foresight.
The practical exams tested endurance and adaptability.
For breeding, he handled a mismatched pair of Pokémon—a stubborn Onix and a timid Clefairy—guiding them through an exercise in trust-building.
For the doctor's exam, he performed a simulated surgical procedure on a Gloom, demonstrating not only technical knowledge but steady, fearless hands.
For research, he produced an analysis of Gible scale patterns that hinted at age and growth potential, an analysis that even seasoned evaluators admitted was novel.
Once again, Albert passed perfectly, in record time.
Yet this time, there was less skepticism and more awe.
Evaluators exchanged not doubtful glances, but respectful ones.
One professor wrote in his notes: "The boy is no longer an anomaly. He is a phenomenon."
That evening, Joseph poured a rare glass of wine and toasted Albert's success while Steven gifted him a notebook with a steel-bound cover, embossed with his initials.
Even Professor Oak sent a letter: "You've gone beyond what I dreamed for you, Albert. Remember, the journey is long, but you are walking it well.
Albert tucked the notebook under his pillow that night.
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At thirteen, Albert faced the Top Exams.
Few ever reached this level.
For many adults, this was the culmination of decades of work.
For Albert, it was another stepping stone, though even he felt the weight pressing on his chest as he entered the exam hall.
By now, there were no whispers of disbelief.
The world watched openly.
News reports speculated about the prodigy's chances.
Fellow candidates eyed him with a mix of envy and admiration.
Some still muttered about his age, but none doubted his intellect.
The written sections demanded mastery—not simply knowledge, but the ability to critique and expand upon existing theories.
Albert dissected flawed models of move mechanics, proposed corrections to outdated breeding practices, and outlined medical protocols that would later become standard reference.
The practicals were grueling.
He spent hours in simulated environments, managing Pokémon under stress, treating rapid injuries, and designing experiments under time constraints.
His psychic connection with Pokémon allowed him to anticipate their reactions with uncanny precision, earning him perfect scores.
He finished exhausted but triumphant.
Once more: perfect, record time.
The world roared.
Journals hailed him as the youngest Top-Ranked researcher, breeder, and doctor.
His papers were no longer curiosities—they were cornerstones of academic curricula.
At home, the Stone Manor threw him a quiet celebration.
Sister Maribel hugged him tightly, whispering that she feared he carried too much weight for such young shoulders.
Percy swore to protect him no matter how famous he became.
Joseph's pride was quieter now, expressed through making sure Albert ate well and rested.
Steven said little, only watching with thoughtful eyes, but Albert could sense his steady presence like bedrock beneath his feet.
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And then came sixteen.
The Master Exams.
The highest rank.
The final trial.
Candidates were expected to show not only knowledge and skill, but innovation—contributions that redefined their fields.
Albert had actually already been doing this for years.
His research over the years changed the world.
His breeding insights had improved countless Pokémon-human bonds. His medical protocols had saved lives.
The examiners knew it. The media knew it.
The halls were silent as Albert walked in, no longer a child prodigy, but a young man standing tall, carrying the weight of his achievements with quiet dignity.
The written tests were almost a formality.
His answers didn't just pass—they read like lectures, weaving together knowledge across centuries of Pokémon science.
The practicals, however, pushed him further than ever before.
He was asked to stabilize a critically injured Dragonite under time pressure—he succeeded.
He was tasked with creating an experimental model for predicting evolution under extreme conditions—he delivered a working framework.
He was asked to guide an aggressive Absol into calm cooperation—he did so with patience, empathy, and psychic resonance.
When the scores were revealed, there was no surprise.
Perfect.
Record time.
Albert Deford, at sixteen, was now a Master-ranked Researcher, Doctor, and Breeder. The youngest in history, shattering every record.
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The aftermath was thunderous.
Journals published tributes. Governments issued statements of praise.
The IPA officially recognized him not only as a national treasure of Evergreen Island but as an international figure whose protection was paramount.
And yet, Albert himself was quiet.
He celebrated his birthday with a simple gathering—Joseph, Steven, Sister Maribel, Percy, and all the professors he had collaborated with over the years.
There was laughter, warm food, and gifts exchanged, but Albert felt a deeper shift inside him.
At sixteen, he was not just a boy under protection.
He was, legally and professionally, a man.
Independent. Capable.
Joseph and Steven still guided him, but Albert had grown into his own strength.
He carried himself differently—no longer hiding behind veils of uncertainty but stepping forward with a calm authority that commanded respect.
And with this came the path that lay before him.
He was no longer just a researcher.
At the age of 16, the legal age, he was ready, at last, to step into the challenge of becoming a Pokémon Trainer.
And someday, with the help of his resources and treasure trove of knowledge, he will become the Master Trainer he had dreamed of becoming, the best of them all.