The sun hung lazily in the afternoon sky, its warmth softened by a steady breeze drifting over the Rose Estate's private training ground. Dust settled on the earth where moments ago fierce battle cries and thunderous growls had echoed. Now, all was calm—only the slow rhythm of breathing and a quiet rustle in the trees remained.
Julius sat on a flat training stone, wiping sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his shirt. His wooden sword rested at his side, scorched slightly at the edge from a close Thunder Fang. Across from him, Iggy—his off-color Granbull—sat upright, panting softly, his tail flicking against the grass.
Caesar approached with a calm stride, carrying a silver tray. Without a word, he placed a tall glass of peach iced tea beside Julius—its golden hue glowing in the light, tiny droplets forming on the glass. For Iggy, a chilled bottle of vegetable juice, which he eagerly accepted with a wag of his tail.
Julius took a long sip of his tea and exhaled. "That hit was a little strong, you know," he said with a playful smirk.
Iggy let out a proud grunt, tapping his clawed paw against the ground twice.
"Yeah, yeah. You got me good," Julius chuckled. "Still... you almost zapped the sword out of my hand."
The fairy-type snorted and gave a toothy grin, his fangs still faintly tingling from leftover static.
Caesar, as always, stood at a respectful distance, observing silently. But the slight upward curl at the corner of his mouth didn't go unnoticed.
Julius leaned back against the stone and stared at the sky. "We're getting stronger, huh, Iggy?"
Granbull barked once, firmly.
Without another word, Julius clinked his glass lightly against Iggy's juice bottle, a quiet gesture only they understood. No big declarations—just two partners who had given it their all, side by side.
As the quiet moment settled between them, Caesar stepped forward, holding a neatly folded towel over one arm and brushing off a few leaves from Julius's shoulder.
"You've both earned it," he said, offering a faint smile. "And by the way—your father's given the word. We'll be heading to the Hoenn region this summer. Vacation home."
Julius blinked, then sat up straighter. "Hoenn?"
Caesar nodded. "Pop-Pop and Nanny are expecting us. Just like old times."
For a second, Julius was quiet, lost in the memory of past summers—warm ocean air, the sound of Wingull overhead, evenings playing in the garden while Nanny called them in for dinner, and Pop-Pop falling asleep in his armchair with the news still on.
It had almost become tradition. Every summer, without fail, they'd pack up and spend weeks in that breezy coastal home nestled on a cliffside near Slateport. Even if the estate here was massive and polished, something about that simpler place always made it feel more… human.
Julius gave a small smile. "It's been a while."
"It has," Caesar said, handing him his towel. "They'll be happy to see how tall you've gotten. And how much more polite you are."
Iggy let out a playful growl, clearly thinking he deserved to be invited too.
Julius looked at him. "Of course you're coming."
After a few days of travel, their private jet touched down near the coastal cliffs of Slateport. From there, they rode up the winding road until the old familiar silhouette came into view.
The summer cottage, as everyone still called it, looked more like a fortress. Spanning nearly a kilometer in diameter, the grand stone structure sat proudly against the sea breeze. Vines crawled across its weathered walls, and the garden was blooming with Lum and Pecha trees, swaying gently in the wind.
As the car doors opened, Julius stepped out and inhaled deeply—the salt air, the distant cry of Wingull, and the warmth of nostalgia.
Waiting at the wide stone steps were two elderly figures. Nanny, dressed in her usual tidy apron and shawl, gave a bright smile the moment she saw them. Pop-Pop, leaning on his cane, stood tall with a dignified air.
But the moment Julius's father exited the car, both bowed respectfully. "Master," they greeted in perfect sync, their voices practiced, almost ceremonial.
He gave a nod, his expression unreadable. "It's good to see you two keeping things in order."
"This estate lives and breathes under your name, sir," Pop-Pop replied, straightening his posture with pride.
Julius walked beside Caesar, who gave him a glance and whispered, "Some welcome, huh?"
Julius chuckled. He knew this wasn't even their largest property. His family had at least one estate like this in every major region—some larger, some about the same size—but this one always felt the most familiar. The most normal, even if it was anything but.
He glanced back at Iggy, who had jumped out of the car and was already sniffing around the old flowerbeds like he belonged there.
As Julius stepped forward, the stone steps felt strangely familiar beneath his shoes. Before he could say anything, Nanny rushed over, her arms wide open and a bright smile stretched across her wrinkled face.
"Little Julius! Come here, my boy!"
Julius chuckled, letting himself be pulled into the kind of hug only Nanny could give—tight, warm, and filled with genuine affection. Despite the formality shown to his father, she treated Julius like he was still the five-year-old who used to chase Beautifly in her garden.
Pop-Pop followed at a slower pace, his cane tapping the stone with every step. "You've grown taller again. And sharper in the eyes too, huh?" he said with a proud nod, offering a firm handshake that turned into a pat on the back.
"I missed you both," Julius said sincerely.
"We missed you more," Nanny said, brushing off some imaginary dust from his shoulders. "You better eat properly this time. Last year you skipped half the desserts!"
Pop-Pop grinned. "And don't think I forgot that time you tried to ride my old Tauros like a Rapidash."
Caesar stood a step behind, watching the scene with a soft smile. Iggy wagged his tail beside them, clearly enjoying the peaceful atmosphere.
Compared to the cold etiquette of the Rose Estate, this place felt alive—filled with laughter, teasing, and memories. Julius felt like a grandson here… not just an heir.
He gave them a rare, genuine smile.
As the grand oak doors creaked open, Julius stepped inside the summer castle he'd visited nearly every year since childhood. Despite its vastness—almost a kilometer in diameter—it felt less like a fortress and more like a peaceful sanctuary wrapped in marble and green.
Sunlight filtered through the tall arched windows, casting a golden glow on the gleaming floors. The scent of fresh herbs drifted through the air, hinting at the nearby kitchen where Nanny always brewed something warm, even in summer.
To the right of the entrance hall, separated by a low glass barrier and flourishing ivy archways, was the biosphere—a massive, self-sustaining habitat for Pokémon. It wasn't some artificial enclosure but a living piece of nature nurtured with love and time. The gentle sound of trickling water from a small stream could be heard inside, weaving past clusters of mossy rocks and glowing flowers.
Julius paused to take it all in.
A young Chikorita and a mischievous Aipom chased each other around a sunlit patch while a sleepy Gogoat nibbled calmly under a berry tree. Swablu glided lazily in the air, their fluffy wings like floating clouds. In the deeper parts of the biosphere, he could see a few Pokémon peeking through the greenery—an injured Zangoose resting on a large heated rock, and an elderly Bellossom being fed by Nanny's caretaker Chansey.
"It's still as beautiful as I remember," Julius murmured.
Nanny gently rested a hand on his shoulder. "These little ones need peace and love, just like people. We're lucky we can give it to them."
Pop-Pop added with a fond chuckle, "Your grandmother turns even wild Tauros into mellow Miltank if you leave her long enough."
Julius smiled, stepping closer to the glass. There was something sacred about the space. It wasn't built for research or luxury—it was built out of compassion. A place where injured, tired, and abandoned Pokémon came not just to heal… but to be loved.
Continuing from the peaceful natural atmosphere of the Pokémon haven, where Julius had spent the day exploring and observing the wild Pokémon…
Later that evening, after attending a private business class meant to prepare him for the responsibilities of the Rose name, Julius leaned against the velvet cushions of his room's antique chaise lounge. The day's heat, the quiet drone of his tutor's voice, and the soft rustling of the curtains lulled him into a deep sleep.
In that sleep, his consciousness drifted elsewhere—into a vivid dream unlike any other.
He found himself in a meadow bathed in moonlight, the air filled with a playful shimmer. Suddenly, a flash of bright pink zipped through the sky, giggling as it weaved in and out between startled wild Pokémon. It somersaulted above a group of sleeping Butterfree, tickled a napping Ursaring's nose with its tail, and then vanished behind a cloud with a mischievous wink.
Julius squinted upward, heart racing with excitement. The Pokémon was small, almost weightless in its movements, with a long, thin tail and round, childlike eyes filled with curiosity. He didn't need his system to tell him its name—it was Mew, the mythical Pokémon said to contain the DNA of all Pokémon.
The dream didn't feel like a normal dream. It was too real—too clear. The laughter of the wild Pokémon, the rush of wind left in Mew's wake, the glimmering energy it gave off—it all left an impression Julius couldn't shake.
As the pink blur soared overhead once more, Julius stretched his hand toward it without thinking. Mew paused, mid-air, and tilted its head at him. Then it grinned and darted straight toward him—everything went white.
Julius gasped awake the next morning, his room still dark from the early hour, his heart thudding.
"...What was that?"
He sat up slowly, brushing his bangs aside. There was no doubt in his mind—this wasn't an ordinary dream.
As Julius sat up, his breath still shallow from the rush of the dream, he pressed a hand to his chest and glanced toward the faint light seeping through the balcony curtains.
That dream had felt too vivid—too tangible to be fiction.
He exhaled slowly, muttering to himself, "That had to be… another one."
He knew by now, after years of psychic training, that his Intermediate-level abilities granted him rare glimpses into possible futures. He'd seen incidents before they happened—moments that later came to pass exactly as he saw them. But even with that knowledge, distinguishing those visions from the vividness of his own imagination remained difficult.
Sometimes his dreams were just that—dreams.
Other times… they were something else entirely.
"I wish I could just tell when it's real," he muttered, rubbing his temple.
The pink Pokémon—Mew. Julius had never seen it in person. Only books and archived footage. Yet in that dream, he could recall every movement, every glimmer, every sound. His instincts whispered that this dream, too, was more than just his mind playing games.
But with no certainty, all he could do was stay alert and wait—wait for the signs, for the moment this dream might begin unfolding in the waking world.
His eyes narrowed with quiet resolve.
"If that really was a future vision… then I'll meet it soon."
And this time, he would be ready.