As the three figures moved deeper into the heart of the forest, sunlight filtered softly through the towering trees, and a sweet breeze carried the scent of wildflowers. Pokémon stirred around them — a curious Wurmple wiggled across the path, a flock of Murkrow perched quietly above, and a mighty Pinsir paused its training to watch them with wary eyes. Yet, none dared to come close. Mew's presence blanketed the area with an invisible authority, one that even the boldest Pokémon instinctively respected.
The only sound was the steady crunch of footsteps against leaves, until Julius, walking just a little behind Lucario, decided to break the silence.
He asked, his voice light but respectful, "Lucario… what really caused the war you fought in?"
Lucario's steps slowed almost immediately. His ears twitched, and for a moment, he seemed lost in thought, as if the forest around them had melted away, replaced by images of a different time.
"It wasn't a fight for honor or justice," Lucario finally said, his voice low. "It was about land."
He spoke plainly, without dramatics or embellishment.
"There were two kingdoms. Neighbors. They shared a border that neither side could agree on. Over time, what began as small skirmishes over hunting grounds and water turned into arguments about who had the right to rule the territory between them."
Lucario paused to step over a thick root, his paw brushing aside a fern.
"The arguments turned to threats. Threats turned to battles. And before anyone could stop it, we were at war."
The forest seemed quieter somehow, the weight of his words settling over them.
"They outnumbered us badly," Lucario continued, his voice growing rougher with memory. "For every one of us, they sent fifty."
Julius listened, carefully noting how calm Lucario sounded — not bitter, just tired.
Lucario's eyes darkened slightly as he remembered.
"They didn't just come with numbers. They came with monsters. Pokémon bred for war. Charizard with wingspans big enough to black out the sun. Rhydon with armor thicker than any blade could pierce. Blastoise that could flood entire valleys. Gyarados… Machamp… Alakazam… the strongest of the strong. Their armies looked less like soldiers and more like living disasters."
He glanced back briefly at Julius and added, almost quietly, "We fought because we had no choice. If we didn't stand, we would have been crushed."
The path turned slightly downhill, and the sound of running water grew nearer. Despite the beauty of the forest, the heavy history in Lucario's voice made everything feel colder.
For a moment, the three walked in silence again, until Julius finally spoke, his voice quiet but firm. "A mysterious force made them stop," he said, glancing up at Lucario. "Humans and Pokémon... they all suddenly left the battlefield and returned to their homes. No one really understood it. Some said it was divine intervention, others said it was the world itself rejecting the war."
Lucario's ears twitched slightly at that, but he said nothing. He only listened, deep in thought.
Julius continued, "Maybe it was the power of Aura... or something older. Something that didn't want to see the world burn."
Lucario's paw clenched slightly at his side, but his expression was unreadable.
After Julius's words faded into the forest air, Lucario's steps slowed again, his gaze distant.
"At the climax of the war…" Lucario muttered, almost to himself, "when everything reached its breaking point... when the enemy nation's forces marched straight toward our kingdom with overwhelming power… that's when it happened."
He tightened his grip on the staff he now carried loosely in his paw, his voice tightening with emotion.
"They came with everything they had. Charizard, Rhydon, Blastoise — all of them, charging like a storm we couldn't hope to stop. Our walls were breaking. Our soldiers were exhausted. I was prepared to fight until the end."
Lucario's eyes narrowed slightly as the memory sharpened painfully.
"But instead of standing with me…" Lucario said, his voice dropping low, "he sealed me."
There was no anger in Lucario's tone anymore — only deep, unsettled confusion, a wound that hadn't healed even after centuries.
"One moment I was ready to face the enemy, to protect the people... and the next, I was trapped inside that staff, locked away without explanation. Left behind."
The rustling of the forest seemed to grow quieter at his words, as if even nature itself was listening.
Lucario's red eyes flickered toward Julius and Mew for a brief moment, searching for something. Trust, maybe. Understanding.
"I never saw the end of that battle. I never saw whether we won or lost. I only know that when I awoke…" he paused, a bitter smile crossing his face, "the world had changed."
Lucario's voice barely rose above a whisper. His steps halted.
A sudden chill ran through him.
He looked around — his gaze sweeping over the mossy stones, the ancient trees, and the faint imprint of old paths now claimed by time. The whisper of aura tugged at his memory.
"This place…" he said slowly, brows furrowing. "This is it. This is where I was sealed."
Mew floated silently beside him, somber. Iggy shifted nervously, sensing the gravity of Lucario's emotions.
Near a shallow ridge, nestled between two roots of an enormous tree, a crystalline flower shimmered softly — the Time Flower.
Julius stepped closer and nodded toward it.
"Touch it," he said gently. "It might show you what happened."
Lucario hesitated, but the yearning to know… to remember… overcame the pain. He reached out and placed his paw on the flower.
A wave of energy pulsed outward. Green light enveloped them.
The forest blurred. Sound dropped into silence.
And then — the past unfolded.
The same clearing.
Lucario stood in the center, looking battle-worn but resolute. His breathing was heavy, his paws curled into fists. Across from him stood Sir Aaron — eyes filled with sorrow, staff in hand, aura radiating fiercely.
Without a word, Aaron raised his staff and channeled a massive aura pulse. Lucario flinched, confused — but too late.
The aura wrapped around him, binding him midair. His eyes widened as the crystal in the staff absorbed him completely.
Sir Aaron collapsed to his knees. And then, as voices shouted in the distance and the sound of roaring Pokémon drew closer, he turned and fled the scene.
Julius watched in stunned silence.
The vision did not end.
Moments later, the enemy army arrived.
Charizard soared through the smoke-filled sky, breathing flames that scorched the trees. Rhydon charged through the earth, uprooting anything in its path. Blastoise rained Hydro Pumps that crushed entire squads of defenders.
It was chaos. Screams echoed — both human and Pokémon alike.
Hyper Beams tore through formations like thunderbolts. Earthquakes split the forest floor. Alakazam, Golem, Scyther, Machamp… giants of battle, moving in brutal unity.
It was no fantasy war.
It was real.
Raw.
Merciless.
The vision faded.
Lucario stood silently, shoulders shaking.
Then — he erupted.
With a growl born of pain and betrayal, he formed an Aura Sphere and hurled it into the trees.
Then another. And another.
They exploded against boulders, branches, empty air.
"I trusted him!" Lucario shouted. "I stood ready to die with him!"
Another blast.
"And he left me there!"
Silence followed, broken only by Lucario's heavy breathing. Smoke and aura mist curled around him.
Julius stepped forward, slowly, cautiously. The images still burned in his mind. His heartbeat faster, not from fear, but from understanding.
In the movie… it had all been softened. Romanticized.
But this — this was real history. Blood, smoke, fire. Pokémon not as cute companions… but as warriors.
The stillness after the storm of memory hung heavy.
Lucario stood amidst the echoes of his rage, his shoulders rising and falling, breath catching with the weight of what he had just witnessed. The Time Flower had shown a truth—but only a shard of it. Pain twisted within him, tangled between memory and betrayal.
But Julius didn't flinch.
He stepped forward, quietly, slowly, like one would approach a wounded warrior, not to fix—but to acknowledge.
He placed a hand gently on Lucario's shoulder.
"Sir Aaron didn't run," Julius said, his voice soft but firm. "You just didn't see the second half."
Lucario's crimson eyes flickered toward him—confused, unreadable.
Julius didn't wait for a reply. He turned to Mew.
"Can you take us there?" he asked, his tone steady.
Mew, hovering nearby, had been silent all this time, eyes lowered in respect. Now, hearing Julius's request, he lifted his head and locked eyes with the boy.
The pink Pokémon blinked once—then gave a silent nod.
He understood.
No words were exchanged.
A flash of psychic light enveloped the three of them—Julius, Lucario, and Mew.
They vanished from the forest clearing.
And reappeared deep within the Tree of Beginning.
The chamber that emerged before them was vast and crystalline, carved not by hand, but by aura itself. Ethereal blue light shimmered through the translucent walls, pulsing like the veins of a living being. Massive crystal spires jutted upward like natural monuments, humming gently with the flow of life energy.
It was quiet—eerily so.
At the center of it all, resting gently on a pedestal of radiant stone, were two simple items.
A pair of well-worn gloves.
Sir Aaron's gloves.
Lucario froze.
His gaze locked on the gloves, unmoving.
Lucario stood in silence, eyes narrowed, jaw clenched as he stared at the familiar gloves resting on the crystalline pedestal. His hands twitched. Even across centuries, he could feel the echo of aura within them.
To their side, embedded into a blooming cluster of crystal like a sacred relic, was a Time Flower. It pulsed faintly with memory, like a heart yet to beat.
Lucario's eyes drifted to Julius.
But Julius said nothing.
No explanations. No attempts to sway his thoughts.
His expression simply asked: Do you want to know the truth?
Lucario's ears flicked. His gaze turned to Mew, who had hovered quietly beside them since the moment they arrived. The mythical Pokémon's tail swayed lightly behind him, and his eyes shimmered—not with joy, but with quiet understanding.
Lucario didn't speak again. Words were meaningless now.
He stepped forward.
Each footfall echoed, sharp against the crystalline floor. As he approached the Time Flower, the air grew warmer, denser—filled with unseen memories waiting to surface.
He reached out.
Paused.
Looked back at Julius.
The boy gave the faintest nod.
No instruction. No confirmation.
Just… permission.
His paw trembled as it hovered above the glowing petals.
And then—
He reached forward.