Can you feel that?

  The air fizzing with warmth; enough to make you want to take off your jacket.

  Not your scarf though. Never that.

  Now, Lucas had just arrived in the beachy neighboring town with the sun beginning to drown in the noon sky.

  Ironically, during this nigh-dusk hour, he found Dawn perched right outside a building, her hands snugly tucked into the pockets of her rose-colored trench coat. Almost psychic-like, she turned her neck like a Hoothoot and locked eyes with the town foreigner.

  Lucas twiddled his hands, checking his pockets for nothing as she marched up to him. That was when his attention was sucked away by a furry fudge-colored Buneary hopping after the girl.

  “Woah, you have a Buneary?” he asked.

  “Huh? Oh, yep. This is Toffee. Oh! You didn't drop that, did you?” she pointed a finger behind Lucas at the sandy road.

  “Sorry, I don't see anything…”

  “Oh, maybe not. Usually, people greet each other before anything else, so I thought that pile of manners sitting over there belonged to you ( ?ー?).” She and Toffee both covered their mouths as they giggled.

  “Oh! My bad. I'm sorry, Dawn.” Sheepishness had deeply seeped into his voice. “Hi, how are you? It’s been a while…”

  “Shh, we're just messing with you,” she said with a playfully vicious look in her dark blue eyes that made it too difficult for poor Lucas to recognise if she was serious or not, “Come on, the Professor's waiting… and don't worry, we’re doing just fine,” she smiled.

  Lucas stood there in confusion, wondering what exactly she meant seeing as she’d only met him once, and they hadn’t discussed anything. What ‘work to do’ did he have to do?

  Nonetheless, he followed behind Dawn and her bouncing rabbit across a sea salt-scented town, past bunches of children cheerfully chasing a flock of Wingulls kiting through the air, before finally stopping at a large venerable wooden building tiled with fine teal shingles that swamped the air with an aura of wisdom.

  Dawn jauntily gestured at the door, pushing into a sterile room populated by men and women clinically dressed in white coats and working machinery that looked alien to Lucas. It smelled of mint and medicine, pills and potions. There were tables littered with stacks of papers, others with disassembled Poké Balls and screws; graphs and charts of anatomical nature.

  “Wow… I'm really at the Professor's Lab,” Lucas said, his eyes glued to one of the many incubators—some even had eggs inside! He couldn't help but stop and stare; the glass permeated a soft warmth from the inside. ‘BC#280: Ralts’ it read on one of the tags stuck onto the incubator.

  “Must be a dream come true for you,” Dawn said, fixing the soft beanie atop her head. “You said you've been watching him since you were eight?”

  “Yeah, all the time while I waited for my mom to come back; I'd be up watching him at night for as long as I can remember—he's the reason I even want to research Pokémon.”

  “Then I'm sure you'd be delighted to take my offer, Lucas…”

  Lucas turned from the big machine in the direction of that ever-familiar time-honoured voice. It was him, standing tall behind Dawn in his classic rustic brown coat that distinguished him from all his aides.

  “Professor Rowan!” Lucas's grey eyes sparkled silver. There was really no getting used to being around him… He had an almost godlike presence.

  “We brought Lucas just like you asked, Professor,” Dawn said.

  “It's good to see you again, my boy. I hope you've been well,” said the Professor.

  Lucas looked away, his eyes floating around. Like a Haunter, the memories of what had happened at the lake dug their ghastly claws into his spirit. “About that… There's something I'd like to speak to you about. Oh, and Dawn said I have a lot of work to do?”

  “Indeed,” the Professor said. “You wish to research the legendary Pokémon and myths of Sinnoh, do you not?”

  “Yeah!” Lucas said… but his excited exclamation was promptly swallowed by a brine of befuddlement. “How did you know?”

  “The Professor always has an eye for this sort of thing; I figure he almost knows everything. Although, there are some things he can’t see…” Dawn scanned her perfect cuticles with a hidden distaste on her face, and the pinch of salt in her voice told Lucas it didn’t have anything to do with the state of her polished nails.

  “Things like what?”

  “Ah! That reminds me: Dawn, there is a very important parcel on the top of my desk in the back that I need you to fetch for me while I speak to this curious young man with a bright future ahead of him,” the Professor promptly spoke out with calm urgency.

  “Of course, sir…” Dawn motioned out of the picture, an almost grumpy(?) face plastered on the little Buneary’s adorable face as she moved away, stomping on her fluffy feet; even coming to a halt and—“Toffee! Stop that. Let’s just go.”

  With her cloudy ears bold up like bouldery fists, Toffee let it go. It wasn’t worth it.

  “Now…”

  The boy refocused on the timeless man in front of him. “Yes, sir?”

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  “Come with me.”

  Lucas found himself following behind the footsteps of the man who’d shaped his childhood, who’d molded his past and, in a sense, because of his influence: his future. He passed by many more incubators, some filled with others, others populated by Poké Balls, but that wasn't the focal point; although it seemed the lab did have quite the stockpile, something like a Swalot.

  Yes, quite the impressive yield.

  The Professor led him into another room, and immediately the scent of aged paper flooded Lucas's nostrils so much that you'd get paper cuts from breathing it in.

  All around the walls were files and pages stuffed into shelves, perfectly organized in what looked like thousands of lines; a polished Oak desk near the end of the room.

  “Your friend has already stopped by,”

  “You mean Barry?” Lucas asked.

  “Yes. Although I'd hardly say he stopped, per se. Or maybe ‘pit stop’ is the proper way to describe what he did. I barely had time to speak to him like this, although I doubt there would be much need seeing as he already has his eyes set on a different ambition…”

  Metal screeched in Lucas's ears as the old man pulled open one of the millions of shelves to reveal another lineup of files, singling one out with his finger.

  “Your friend… He told me about your encounter with the rather grim young man who leads Team Galactic. The man named Cyrus. Of course, it was but a mere blur of words.” He slid the drawer shut and approached Lucas, paper in hand, a steely look in his eyes that made Lucas step a leg back.

  “Well…” the boy reached for his scarf, “He wasn't the only one I encountered at the lake. I saw something else. Something happened to me, and I don't know what it was; I thought you might have some answers; it's what I wanted to speak to you about.”

  “Is that so? Consider me intrigued. Please, what is it?”

  “I don't know… a vision of sorts. I was in an empty void, there were floating islands and… I heard a voice. It was loud but… quiet? I don't know why, but I recognized it. It said ‘it would be done again, but this time I will use you,’ or something like that. There was also this strange noise… a blowing noise—like a whistle but it was heavier—and also lighter? Then a giant black shadow swallowed me whole, and I woke up to find Mesprit flying over the lake going… somewhere…”

  As the syllables left his lips, Lucas could feel the residual emotions from each experience bubbling within him. But they were all overshadowed by his rising bewilderment. Or was it concern? Maybe both.

  Why was that?

  The Professor's face looked utterly unmoved. Even with all the wrinkles etched into his skin by the pen of time, his face was somehow still straight and creaseless.

  That was when the door pushed open. “Here you go, Professor.”

  It was Dawn and Toffee.

  “Lucas Gray, I need you to do something for me.” The Professor took hold of the parcel unbuffered by Dawn's sudden arrival. The whole sequence was a twister of sorts that left him confused.

  Lucas stared at the parcel in confusion. "You need me? Are you sure you need me?”

  Rowan smiled.

  "In fact, Lucas, you're the only one with the expertise to do this job. Shall I say you have the most experience? Yes. You do. You're perfect for it. Now, boy, this is a very important job that must be carried out proficiently and with zero to no faults..."

  "Okaaaaay? If that's the case, don't you think someone else should do it? I'm a goof, and I suck most of the time—"

  Lucas felt a hand on his shoulder. It was her.

  "If Professor Rowan's trusting you in particular, it means you're the best person for the job, Lucas. Even if you don't trust yourself, trust him," Dawn said.

  He nodded, hesitantly taking the parcel.

  "Lucas Grey, I find myself fascinated by a myriad of Pokémon even in my old age. So many secrets and unknowns to be… deciphered. Past, present, and future. They're all connected. Your past determines your future in most cases. Your present and the path you're running toward are a direct result of how you've lived in the past..."

  Lucas was confused, his eyes darting back and forth between Dawn and the grey-haired man preaching to his face.

  What on Earth was he on about?

  “I'll spare you the ramblings of an old man such as myself," the Professor said, "Inside that parcel is a very special machine you'll need during your mission. Your friend left before I could give him one, but I have a feeling he'll be just fine without one. As I was saying, Mr Grey, I need you to do something on my behalf. Not that I can't do it—rather, I believe it will be most interesting to see you carry it out instead, and it would help you… shall I say, ‘reconcile’ with a few things. You harbor heaps of self-doubt, but I know you won't disappoint. You can't disappoint. I've seen it before."

  ...

  "Uhh. Sure, but what do you need me to… do?"

  Lucas stopped, silenced by the Professor suddenly staring deep into his soul with a hard gaze.

  It felt… wrong to stare back, like he wasn't worthy to. But that was just his head. Come to think of it, he really did carry around too much doubt.

  Professor Rowan fixed his black tie and cleared his throat.

  "This world is governed by elements beyond your understanding. I apologize for being deceptive in making it appear as if there were no strings attached, but in return for that Piplup I gifted you, I need you to research the myths of this region for me. The legendary Pokémon. All of them, yes. But I want you to acutely focus on the three lake guardians and the paragons of time and space. However, it is my understanding that you wish to embark on a journey to conquer the Pokémon League as well?”

  "Well… yeah. I wanna be a strong trainer like my father was," Lucas nodded.

  "Ahh, I see. Not to worry—if anything, your research will help bolster your capabilities in battle. Besides, you won't be able to carry out this job without challenging the gyms. But yes. I need you to dig around, from caves and ruins to cities and lakes. You must know more about these legendary Pokémon, what they are… I feel you'll find it quite useful somewhere down the line. That is what I will say you need to do for me. Is that alright?"

  Lucas looked all around the room nervously. This sounded like a big responsibility… what did the Professor see in him? A klutz like him? He hadn't even told him how Azure was too stubborn to listen to him.

  Still… the Professor had given him a Pokémon—he'd given him a chance to see the world for crying out loud! Now he could do what he'd always told him he'd do and become strong! No longer a crybaby Togepi. Not to mention, it wasn't like he didn't want to know about the region's secrets; its rich past. He'd always wondered about the sea guardian Manaphy—did Shaymin even exist?

  More importantly… what about the Legend of Arceus?

  With all that bombarding his mind…

  "Okay… I'll do it," he said.

  …no wasn't an option.

  No.

  It was never an option.