By the time I finished coordinating with the security department and confirming that every island had been stabilized, the next phase had already begun to take shape with quiet efficiency, because the academy staff had not wasted a single moment in transitioning from crisis management to conclusion.
Across all the islands, central stages had been erected near the safer zones, positioned deliberately where students could gather without obstruction, each one equipped with large projection screens that ensured visibility regardless of distance, while support teams guided participants from scattered sectors toward these points in an organized flow that left no room for confusion.
The shift in atmosphere was noticeable.
What had been a battlefield not long ago was now being restructured into something resembling order, though the weight of what had occurred still lingered in the air, carried in the silence between conversations and the way students moved, more aware, more measured than before.
By the time I stepped onto the stage of the island I was on, the majority had already gathered, their attention directed forward, their expressions varied but uniformly focused, while above and around them, the projection systems activated, ensuring that my image appeared simultaneously across every island, linking all locations into a single moment.
Not just for the students.
But for everyone watching.
I allowed a brief pause, long enough for the movement to settle and for the attention to fully converge, before I began.
"Good evening, entrants," I said, my voice steady as it carried across the islands and into countless screens beyond them, "and to those watching from home."
There was no need to raise my tone.
The silence ensured that every word would reach where it needed to.
"Before we return to the examination itself," I continued, "there is something that must be addressed."
I let that statement rest for a moment, not for effect, but because what followed required clarity rather than speed.
"What occurred earlier was not part of the planned assessment. It was an attack carried out by Earth Liberation, an organization that has consistently opposed the peaceful development and cooperation of human society."
Across the gathered students, subtle reactions appeared, not surprise, because they had already understood that much, but confirmation, the kind that settled uncertainty into something more concrete.
"They are not misguided," I said, my gaze steady as it moved across the audience, "and they are not acting without purpose. They are deliberate, organized, and willing to act against anyone they perceive as a threat."
I paused briefly before continuing, allowing the weight of that to settle.
"To those watching from home, especially those who have lived in relative peace, today's events may appear excessive, even ruthless. That perspective is understandable. However, it is also incomplete."
The tone did not harden.
It remained even.
Controlled.
"If no action is taken, groups like this do not remain static. They grow. They adapt. They become bolder with each success and each moment of inaction."
A few students straightened slightly at that, their earlier tension shifting into something more grounded.
"Previously, their actions were limited," I continued. "Their targets were isolated."
I did not elaborate.
I did not need to.
"This time," I said, "they chose to strike at all of you."
The statement carried more weight than any raised voice could have.
"Ask yourselves what comes next if such actions go unanswered. If this had not been contained here, if the response had been delayed, if the defense had not held—who would they target after this?"
The silence deepened.
Not uncomfortable.
But focused.
"Today," I said, "we ensured that the answer to that question does not become reality."
I let that settle before moving forward.
"Their elite operational force has suffered significant losses. This was not a minor engagement. It was a decisive one."
The screens around the islands continued to display the gathered audience, the scale of attention reinforcing the significance of the moment.
"The Pokémon Department is already in active discussions with multiple nations," I added, "to formally recognize and denounce the actions of this group and to ensure coordinated measures moving forward."
This time, the pause that followed was shorter.
Because the next part marked a transition.
"But conflict alone does not define progress," I said, shifting the tone slightly without losing its clarity. "What we build in its aftermath matters just as much."
I gestured toward the side of the stage.
"Today, we are joined by representatives from several countries that have accepted our invitation, not only to observe, but to support a future built on cooperation rather than division."
Movement began below the stage.
Orderly.
Measured.
As the invited delegates stepped forward one by one, their presence reflecting the broader scale of what this event represented beyond the examination itself.
Beside the stage, Ritu began announcing them, her voice clear and composed as she introduced each representative in turn, ensuring that their arrival was acknowledged not as a formality, but as a statement.
The students watched.
The viewers listened.
Once the final delegate had taken their seat and the stage settled into a composed stillness, I allowed a brief pause to pass to ensure that the transition from what had already been addressed to what would follow was clear in the minds of both the students gathered before me and those watching from afar.
"Now that this matter has been explained," I continued, my voice carrying evenly across every island through the projection systems, "we will return to the purpose that brought all of you here."
The shift in attention was immediate, as the weight of recent events gave way to a sharper anticipation, one that had been building quietly beneath everything else.
"I hereby announce that the entrance examination for the Pokémon Academy is complete."
The words settled across the crowd with a distinct finality, creating a ripple that moved through the gathered students, not loud enough to disrupt order but strong enough to be felt in the way shoulders tightened, in the way eyes fixed more intently on the stage, because regardless of what had occurred beyond the intended scope of the exam, this moment marked the conclusion of their effort.
I did not allow that reaction to expand unchecked.
"There are, however, additional considerations that must be accounted for before final results are fully recognized."
The subtle tension returned, controlled yet unmistakable, as attention sharpened once again.
"During the events that unfolded earlier, a number of students made the decision to step beyond the role of participants and actively assist the security teams," I said, allowing my gaze to move across the gathered groups without singling anyone out directly. "These contributions included containment of hostile Pokémon, reinforcement of defensive positions, and support through healing and recovery efforts."
A brief pause followed, measured rather than dramatic.
"Those students will receive additional points, which will be added directly to their final scores."
The reaction this time carried a sharper edge, as the implication of that adjustment registered quickly among the crowd, yet before it could break into distraction, I continued.
"In addition to this adjustment, they will receive resource support from the academy."
That statement altered the atmosphere in a more noticeable way, because points alone determined rank, but resources influenced growth, and growth determined future strength.
"Even in cases where such students do not qualify for direct entry into the academy, they will still receive these resources."
That clarification shifted the meaning of contribution entirely, reinforcing that action taken under pressure held value beyond immediate reward, and for many, that realization settled deeper than the ranking itself.
I allowed that understanding to take hold before moving to the final declaration.
"The selection criteria for this year's intake is as follows. The top one hundred and fifty students, based on final rankings, will be granted entry into the academy."
The number landed cleanly, without ambiguity, leaving no room for interpretation.
"In addition, ten students from our allied nations will join this cohort."
A subtle acknowledgment passed through the delegates seated behind me, their presence reinforcing the broader scope of what was being established.
"These individuals, together, will form the first batch of academy students and will stand as the foundation for the future of Pokémon trainers."
With that, I raised my hand toward the screen behind me.
The display activated instantly.
The ranking appeared.
Names aligned in ordered sequence, each accompanied by their final point total, presented with clarity and without bias, leaving nothing concealed and nothing open to dispute.
Below the stage, the response unfolded in layers rather than in a single unified reaction, because each student saw something different reflected in that list, not just a number or a position, but the outcome of every decision they had made throughout the examination.
For some, the result brought a quiet satisfaction that did not need to be expressed outwardly, their expressions steady as they confirmed their place within the top ranks, the culmination of effort and calculated risk aligning exactly as intended.
For others, the tension that had been held for hours released in visible relief, shoulders loosening as their names appeared within the threshold, their place secured after uncertainty that had stretched until the very end.
There were moments of excitement as well, contained but unmistakable, where small groups found themselves together within the rankings, exchanging brief words or looks that carried shared understanding without needing volume.
There was pride, present in posture and gaze, in the way some individuals stood straighter, meeting the screen not with surprise but with recognition, as though the result had confirmed what they had already believed about their own capabilities.
At the same time, disappointment settled just as deeply for those who found themselves just outside the cutoff, their reactions quieter, more internal, yet no less significant, as the realization of how close they had come lingered without immediate resolution.
And beneath all of it, there existed a quieter layer of comparison, where glances shifted, where positions were measured not only in isolation but against others, creating an undercurrent that spoke to the competitive nature of what had just concluded.
All of these responses existed simultaneously, overlapping without disrupting one another, because this moment was not defined by a single emotion but by the convergence of many.
Across every island, the same scene repeated in different forms, yet carried the same meaning.
The examination had ended.
The results had been revealed.
And for each of them, whether they stood within the selected ranks or just beyond them, the path ahead had been decided, shaped not only by outcome, but by everything that had led to it.
_______________
A/N: Guys, We have completed 100 chapters. Keep showing your support through powerstones, comments or P@treon. Also leave reviews if you enjoy the story.