The next morning, the Snowpoint Pokémon Center felt a little less like a sanctuary and more like a waiting room for a final exam. Julian had dragged himself out of bed, fed the three stay-at-ho mbers of his team a much more successful (and actually edible) breakfast, and practically ran to the video-phone booth. His eyes were still a bit heavy from Sylveon's forced Yawn the night before, but the adrenaline of seeing his partners again was doing most of the heavy lifting.
"Professor! Please tell you've got sothing. How are they? Are they eating? Is Floette... still Floette?"
The screen flickered to life, revealing Professor Rowan's stern but strangely calm face. "Deep breaths, Julian. I've run every diagnostic in the book. I've cross-referenced their cellular density with every Floette and Growlithe record in the Sinnoh and Kalos databases. There isn't a single sign of tabolic failure or energy toxicity."
Rowan held up a digital clipboard to the cara, but before Julian could even try to squint at the numbers, two familiar heads shoved their way into the fra, nearly knocking the Professor's glasses off.
"Woof woof! (See? Told you! We're basically made of steel!)" Growlithe let out a joyful, raspy bark, his tongue lolling out as he tried to lick the screen from the other side.
"Floe~! Floe~ (Julian, you absolute moron! You sent us away like we were broken toys! I didn't even get to finish my victory nap!)" Floette was hovering right in front of the lens, her tiny arms crossed over her chest, her dual-colored flower twitching with every angry chirp. She was clearly in a world-class sulk.
Julian felt a lump form in his throat, but he managed a shaky laugh. "I... I have no idea what you're saying, but I'm guessing I'm in the doghouse. I'm sorry, guys. I just had to be sure. I'll make it up to you with the best dinner you've ever had—and I promise I'll check the sugar jar this ti."
"Floe~ (Hmph. You better. I want the premium honey glaze or I'm not coming out of the ball for a week.)" Floette turned her back to the cara, though she kept peeking over her shoulder to make sure Julian was still watching.
"Woof~ (He was just worried, Floette. Look at him, he looks like he hasn't slept since the gym.)" Growlithe nudged her, playing the role of the peacemaker as usual.
Julian turned his attention back to Rowan. "So, if they're healthy... why didn't the evolution trigger? That stone was the real deal, Professor. It should have worked."
Rowan leaned back, his expression shifting into that 'Lecture Mode' Julian knew so well. "That's the part that'll keep you awake at night. The data shows that your Floette is carrying a very specific, very ancient signature of energy. It's residual spatial power—likely a lingering 'gift' from Palkia from the event that brought you into this world."
Julian's heart skipped a beat. "Palkia? You think the God of Space is blocking her evolution?"
"Not blocking, exactly. Isolating," Rowan corrected. "Think of it like a protective bubble. Because Floette's body is housing a fragnt of spatial aura, it's instinctively shielding her from external evolutionary triggers like the Shining Stone. Her body recognized the stone's energy as a foreign 'intrusion' and converted it into raw power rather than allowing it to rewrite her genetic code. That's why she hit Gym Leader levels without changing her shape. She absorbed the fuel but kept the engine the sa."
He tapped a chart on the screen. "It's also why her growth from Flabébé took so long. She wasn't just growing; she was stabilizing a piece of divinity. She's essentially built a custom evolutionary ceiling. She might never evolve via a stone while that power is active."
"So... she's stuck?" Julian asked, his voice low.
"In the traditional sense? Perhaps," Rowan said, a rare spark of excitent in his eyes. "But in the scientific sense? She's a pioneer. If she ever truly learns to harmonize with that spatial energy, she might trigger an evolution we've never seen before. You haven't failed her, Julian. You've just given her a much higher mountain to climb. She's essentially an 'Elite' who prefers her current form because it's the only one that can handle the spatial strain."
Julian looked at the tiny, sulky fairy on the screen. The weight that had been crushing his chest for twenty-four hours finally started to lift. "As long as she's not in pain... I don't care if she stays a Floette forever. She's my partner. I like her just the way she is."
Rowan nodded. "I figured you'd say that. And before I send them back, I found sothing else. Your Floette's bottomless pit of a stomach? It's not just gluttony. That spatial energy drains her constantly. She's eating to keep the 'bubble' from collapsing. I'd suggest moving her to high-density, nutrient-packed Pokéblocks. Less volu, more octane. It'll help her focus that energy on her moves rather than just digestion."
"I'm on it," Julian said, nodding seriously. "I'll start a new batch as soon as they get back."
"Good. You're lucky, Julian," Rowan said, starting the transfer process on his end. "Most trainers never see this kind of complexity. You've got a team that's practically a walking research paper. Win the League first, then bring them back here. I want to see what happens when that Growlithe finally decides he's big enough to be an Arcanine without a stone, too."
"We'll be there, Professor. Championship trophy and all." Julian felt a real smile—the first real one in days—break across his face.
"Received. They're coming through now. Go get so rest, Julian. You look terrible."
"Thanks for the honesty, Professor. Talk soon!"
The screen went dark, and a mont later, the transfer machine humd. Two Poké Balls materialized in the tray. Julian grabbed them, feeling the familiar weight in his hands, and let out a long sigh of relief.
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