The conference room's air was thick, though no one raised their voice.
It was the tension of nine institutions holding their breath, waiting to see how the boy before them—the only perfect scorer in history—would respond.
Albert Hugo sat with hands folded, posture perfectly still.
But when he finally opened his eyes, the amethyst glow within them was unmistakable.
It wasn't just confidence. It was power—psychic energy radiating, restrained but undeniable. The recruiters, hardened as they were, exchanged silent glances.
This was no ordinary talent.
Albert let the silence stretch.
Then, as if to punctuate the air itself, he moved—not with words first, but with will.
A subtle ripple coursed through the conference room. Pens lifted gently from the table, hovering as if caught in invisible strings.
The pages of notebooks fluttered, though no wind blew. Even the glasses of water trembled, surface rippling as if stirred by unseen fingers.
And through it all, Albert sat perfectly still, amethyst eyes faintly aglow, the psychic pressure controlled but undeniable.
The recruiters, veterans of power in their own right, felt it press against their minds—not invasive, not hostile, but a reminder that the boy before them commanded strength that no psychics in history had wielded at his age.
All of them, veterans of different professions and titles, despite their age and experience, were not able to move, even an inch.
Their Pokémon hidden in the shadows and in Poké Balls shared the same fate as well.
Professor Caine of the Indigo University instinctively gripped his chair, knuckles white, muttering under his breath, Unthinkable… not even Sabrina could…
Dean Lucienne of Lumiose University leaned forward, eyes alight with hungry calculation, already envisioning how such a prodigy might reshape her university's prestige.
The president of Eucrateak Academy pressed his lips tightly, awe warring with unease as he silently wondered if such a child might already rival the psychic masters of Silver Republic's shrines.
Then, as easily as it began, the phenomenon ceased.
The pens settled. The room was still once more.
"I know that you all know my true identity."
He carefully looked at them one by one.
"So I know what I want, and I hope you listen carefully."
Albert folded his hands again and spoke, calm but unwavering:
"I, again, thank you for your offers. Each of them speaks of legacy, wealth, strength, or harmony. However, I will speak plainly: I do not seek to be bought."
The room shifted slightly, shoulders tightening, expressions sharpening.
Yet none interrupted.
Albert leaned forward, fingers steepled.
"What I require is not just opportunity. What I require is freedom, and perhaps…cooperation. My conditions are as follows."
He raised one hand, ticking them off slowly, deliberately.
"First—housing. A private villa, detached from dormitories, with a laboratory underground. My training, research, and life must not be hindered by constant attention."
Murmurs swept the table, but Albert continued unfazed.
"Second—a Pokémon egg of my choice from your reserves. Not one dictated by tradition, nor one offered as a token. I will choose."
He paused, eyes gleaming faintly, voice smooth as steel.
"Third—full scholarship, without condition. Not for a year, not with stipulations. Full."
His hand lowered slightly.
"Fourth—schedule freedom. I will arrange my own time. Where others follow timetables, I will build mine. Furthermore, I demand the right of early accreditation—allowing me to take examinations in lieu of class, and claim the units without attendance."
This time, the murmurs grew sharper. Some recruiters scribbled notes. Others stiffened, clearly unaccustomed to a student dictating academic policy.
Albert's voice deepened, carrying weight beyond his years.
"Fifth and last—unrestricted access to your database, as well as the rare habitats within your continent. I do not mean the public reserves. I mean the places sealed behind research permits, elite passes, or governmental clearance. If you wish to call me your student, then do not bind my hands."
The silence that followed was absolute.
This wasn't a boy negotiating admission—it was a statesman dictating terms.
Professor Caine of Indigo was the first to break it. "Young man, these demands are—"
"Not demands," Albert interrupted smoothly. "Conditions. If unmet, I will simply walk. My score guarantees me that freedom."
The words struck like iron.
Immediately, counter-offers began to fly.
"We can provide a villa, but the egg must come from a designated pool," Lumiose's Chancellor Montclair argued.
"Our accreditation policy is fixed, but we could grant you personal tutors instead," Provost Vernet of Hearthome offered.
"Access to rare habitats is out of the question," General Steele of Hammerlocke said flatly, though his tone softened as he added, "but we could grant you joint military training zones."
The room turned into a controlled storm, each representative maneuvering, bargaining, retreating.
Albert listened, impassive, as though weighing each one on unseen scales.
But still, his eyes turned—again and again—to Indigo's Professor Caine, who was staying quiet, rather solemn.
Finally, the old scholar adjusted his glasses and stood. His voice cut clean through the clamor.
"Enough."
The room quieted.
Professor Caine fixed Albert with a long, searching stare.
For a moment, the others thought he might refuse outright. But then, slowly, he inclined his head.
"Indigo University accepts."
The room stilled.
"Your villa will be arranged within our Indigo Plateau estates as per your requirements. You may choose any egg from our sanctum reserves, and a full scholarship is guaranteed. The customizable schedule and early accreditation shall be granted, codified by exception under the Indigo Academic Council. And as for restricted zones—" he paused, choosing his words carefully, "—you will be issued Champion-tier clearance, effective the day you step onto our campus."
Gasps rippled through the others.
Champion-tier access was reserved for elites, not students.
But Caine wasn't finished.
"Furthermore," his voice gained strength, carrying not only to Albert but to every rival present, "each time you win the Indigo banner at the World University League, another egg from our sanctum shall be yours. No ceiling, no limit. You bring us victory; we bring you lineage."
Each of the representatives inhaled a breath of cold air, perhaps silently knowing they'd already lost.
The offers from their universities collapsed under the weight of it.
What could Lumiose promise that rivaled infinite pseudo-legendary lineage? What could Hammerlocke say to match Champion clearance?
Albert's eyes narrowed slightly, considering.
Then he gave a single nod.
"Accepted."
The word echoed through the chamber like a verdict.
Nine of the world's most powerful institutions had gathered to recruit a boy.
And in the end, it was not they who chose him.
It was Albert who chose Indigo—on his own terms.