Pokemon Arms

The temple's inner chamber grew darker as the rumbling outside intensified. Spark stood before the altar, his new sword in hand, trying to process everything Lucian had just revealed to him. The weight of the situation was becoming harder to ignore. His mother's legacy. The sword. Arseneros. And the island itself—all of it seemed to be drawing him toward a fate he hadn't been prepared for.

"Lucian," Spark began, his voice steady but filled with questions. "You mentioned the Great Splits. What does that mean?"

Lucian paused, his eyes narrowing as he took a deep breath. "The Great Splits is the event that changed Crazu Island forever," he said quietly, as if the words themselves carried the burden of history. "It was a time of betrayal, division, and the collapse of the Crazu Tribe's unity."

Spark felt a chill run down his spine. "Betrayal? How could they betray each other when they were supposed to be united?"

Lucian's gaze softened as he began to walk slowly around the room, his hands clasped behind his back. "It wasn't a betrayal in the way you might think. The Crazu Tribe was once a peaceful, close-knit community. They were crafters and warriors, living in harmony with the island and the Pokémon who shared it with them. They had a powerful bond with Arseneros, who protected them from invaders and gave them the strength to defend themselves."

He stopped in front of a large mural on the far wall. Spark followed his gaze and saw a scene of the Crazu Tribe—warriors, crafters, and children—all gathered around Arseneros in what looked like a ceremonial offering. The figures in the mural were proud, standing tall with their Pokémon by their side. But there was a shift in the images, an unsettling darkness creeping in toward the edges.

Lucian continued, his voice low. "But as time passed, greed and ambition took root among some of the tribe's leaders. The power Arseneros gave them—the Monster Arms—became a symbol of control, not just of protection. The tribe split into two factions. The warriors, who wished to continue honoring Arseneros and using their arms for protection and defense, and the others, who began to seek more. They sought power. Wealth. They used the Monster Arms for conquest, for domination over neighboring lands."

"That's when the Liona Tribe attacked," Spark said, piecing together what Lucian had said. "The Liona Tribe, the ones who were defeated by Arseneros, right?"

"Yes," Lucian confirmed. "But the Liona Tribe wasn't the only threat. After the split, the Crazu Tribe became divided and weakened. The faction that sought to use the arms for greed eventually became more like the invaders they had once fought against. Their lust for power was insatiable, and they were willing to do anything to get it, including using the Pokémon themselves as tools for war. This led to the creation of the second version of the Monster Arms—those made from living Pokémon. Those are the ones Arseneros despises."

Spark's heart sank. "They used their Pokémon to fight for them...?"

Lucian nodded grimly. "Yes. The arms created from living Pokémon could be temporarily wielded, but they came at a great cost. The Pokémon were forced to bond with the weapons, becoming part of them. Some say the Pokémon willingly gave up their lives to help protect the island. Others say they were forced to—manipulated by the power of the arms. But either way, it changed everything."

"That's when the Great Splits truly began," Spark murmured, his thoughts swirling. "And the island... the people... they lost their way."

Lucian looked at him with a knowing expression. "Exactly. The warriors who still believed in Arseneros' vision tried to fight back, but they were outnumbered. The island became a battleground. The once-thriving Crazu Tribe was shattered. The faction that sought power left, forming their own colonies, while the remaining Crazu Tribe was forced to migrate outside. Arseneros, weakened by the previous battle against legendary Pokémon, fell into a deep slumber, unaware of the changes unfolding on the island."

"But why did they stop honoring him?" Spark asked, feeling a deep sense of loss. "Why did they forget what Arseneros gave them?"

Lucian's expression darkened. "In the wake of the Splits, some of the survivors of the Crazu Tribe began to lose faith in the ideals that once made them strong. As the island grew more isolated, they forgot the true meaning of the Monster Arms. They began to worship power for power's sake. The sword you hold, Spark—it's not just a weapon. It's a symbol. A reminder of what they once stood for. And now, Arseneros is angry. He has been waiting for someone worthy to return, someone who remembers the old ways, who can restore balance to the island."

Spark's fingers tightened around the sword's hilt. The weight of his mother's legacy, combined with the island's troubled history, was more than he had ever expected to bear. But now, more than ever, he felt the weight of the responsibility on his shoulders. The Monster Arms, the people of Crazu Island, and the legacy of Arseneros—everything was tied together. The island's survival, its future, rested on his actions.

"So, if Arseneros is angry," Spark said, "how do I stop him from destroying everything? How do I bring the island back to what it once was?"

Lucian looked at him seriously. "You don't need to stop him, Spark. You need to restore what was lost. You need to remind the people of this island who they really are. The only way to do that is to heal the rift between the two factions, to show them that power isn't everything. You must unite the island—and only then can you face Arseneros. If you fail, there may be no island left to save."

Spark's heart raced. He was still just one person, one young man with a sword and a history he didn't fully understand. But for the first time since he stepped foot on Crazu Island, Spark felt a flicker of understanding. The battle ahead wasn't just about fighting monsters. It was about saving a people, restoring honor, and honoring the sacrifice of those who had come before him.

"Alright," Spark said, determination settling into his bones. "I'll do it. I'll unite the island. I'll honor Arseneros' legacy and my ancestors."

Lucian smiled, his eyes gleaming with approval. "I knew you were the right one for this."

The rumbling outside began to intensify once again, a warning that time was running out. Spark stood tall, his new sword glowing with the power of the island, ready to take on the challenge that lay ahead.