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Chapter 3: Mauville

Having fallen asleep early in the evening, Steven woke up before dawn. He didn't waste time before setting out, leaving only a note for the vice president — she knew where he was going, but at least this way she'd be sure he hadn't upped and disappeared too.

The air was cold, especially once Skarmory reached the altitude it used for long distance flights. Dew gathered on its sleek metal feathers, making them slick under Steven's hands. Carefully adjusting his grip, he ducked his head against the wind nipping at his nose and cheeks.

By the time the towers of Mauville City came into view, the sun had climbed over the horizon and the town must have been beginning its day. Hopefully, he'd be able to catch Wattson before he began accepting challengers at the gym. Since Mauville lay at a major crossroads, it was one of the most popular and often challenged gyms in their league, and the matchup schedule against the gym leader was often booked all day.

As they landed at the Route 117 entrance to the city, Steven slid off his Pokemon's back and winced a little at the soreness of his muscles. Skarmory cawed lowly, pushing its beak against him.

"Thank you. You did great as always," he praised it, scratching carefully between its sharp plates. "Sorry, but I don't have time to rush. I'll give you a proper polishing later, okay?"

The most vain among Steven's team of rocks, rocks, and more rocks, Skarmory gave him a look that said he'd better not forget, or a suit or two would end up in stips next time he needed a ride. But, with a final scratch between its neck plates, it allowed itself to be returned to its Poke Ball without protest.

After the redevelopment project, Mauville had become one of Hoenn's largest cities, with a wide variety of shops and some of the most prestigious housing in the region. It was hard to remember that only a few years back, it had been a small town about the size of Petalburg, with the gym and its location along the highway out of Slateport being its only points of interest. Wattson had been not only the original planner behind the redevelopment, but also the one who gathered the funding and the lead of the implementation team. Mauville was in many ways his city.

Because of that, there were a number of perfectly innocuous reasons why Mr. Stone might have arranged meetings with him, and Steven tried not to let his expectations get too high.

Or his uneasiness. Wattson hadn't returned the message Steven left him the prior evening, but that was hardly a warning sign. The man was certain to be quite busy...

The streets were already quite busy, and activity was only picking up as the morning wore on. Although Steven had mostly managed to avoid any public attention from his position as the Champion or from his connections to Devon, a few people still shot him long, interested looks as they passed him in the streets. Picking up the pace, Steven felt a small burst of relief as the familiar facade of the Mauville City Gym came into view.

That relief was short-lived. The lights and the front displays were on, but a group — trainers by their looks — had gathered in front of the gym. They had been whispering among themselves, but noticing his approach, they turned to stare at him instead. Recognizing him, someone muttered to their neighbor and soon the small crowd parted to let him pass to the front of the gym.

"Um... Is there anything wrong with the gym?" one of the trainers asked. "I mean, if the League sent you..."

It took a moment for Steven to respond, as he stared at the sign on the front of the building. The usual pattern of Poke Balls and "GYM" was missing, replaced by an announcement.

'Leader Wattson is not accepting challenges today.'

"...I'm not here on League business," Steven corrected him. He turned to send the trainer, and the rest of the crowd, a smile — hoping none of his agitation had shown on his face. "It's just a coincidence."

He hoped it was, at least.

"I'm sure the Gym Leader will be back soon. You should use this chance to check that you and your Pokemon are ready," he said. "Now, if you'll excuse me..."

Before anyone could another question, he quickly ducked inside.

Aside from Wattson, the gym was still operating as normal — understudies and passing trainers facing off or discussing tactics, colorful lightning flashing between the electric barriers Wattson had chosen for his thematic decor, the thick exposed wires under the platforms humming with energy. Only the stairway in the back, leading up to the Gym Leader's arena, was sealed off.

It was easy to guess who was running the gym in Wattson's absence. Among the young trainers, the figure of a single veteran, her hair more gray than its original pale green, stood out noticeably.

"Excuse me," Steven called out, making his way to her. "I'm looking for Wattson..."

"He's not available today, please read the sign—" she started to respond, only to pause once she got a good look at him. "You're... oh. I'm his wife, Julie. Sorry, but he's really not here. He didn't tell me he had any appointment scheduled... "

"We didn't have an appointment," Steven admitted. "But it's something of an urgent matter. Is he home sick? Or did he go somewhere? I really do need to speak with him."

Wattson's wife sighed, a faint furrow in her brow. It didn't match the faint laugh lines around her eyes and mouth. "He went to New Mauville yesterday. The Square Tower lit up, so he went to make sure there weren't any issues. That was late yesterday, but he's not back yet."

Even if she didn't say it, Steven could guess that taking so long was unusual.

The entrance into New Mauville was just a little ways down Route 110, and most of the derelict power plant had been closed off. Going in to check whether something had malfunctioned shouldn't have taken overnight.

"Then I'll go look for him there," Steven decided.

"...Thanks," she said, her expression clearing a little. Reaching into the collar of her tracksuit, she pulled out a keycard on a lanyard and lifted it over her head. Holding it out to Steven, she explained, "Here, this will let you in past the gate at New Mauville. Normally, you need to have your iris pattern registered, but we do have a master pass, just in case. I'll need that back back afterwards."

"I appreciate it. I'll be sure to return it once I've spoken to Wattson," Steven promised, winding the cord and tucking into the inner pocket of his jacket. "I'll be back soon."

...He hoped.

~.~.~

The electronic gates just inside the New Mauville building beeped, flashing through a sequence of security notifications, and slowly slid open. Tucking the master keycard back into his pocket, Steven glanced at them thoughtfully before stepping through.

It seemed a bit excessive for an abandoned building. Wattson's wife had even mentioned that they were normally keyed to iris patterns. The gates were thick too, leaving no way to slip inside past them — for a human, at least.

There must have been another way for the wild Pokemon that inhabited the place to move in and out. Steven knew that the power plant's machinery had been left intact for the benefit of those Pokemon, something about the generator building a small charge even when inactive, but did machinery decades out of date really require that level of security?

...Wattson might have gotten carried away. His personality was like that.

Well, it didn't really matter. Shaking away the unnecessary questions, Steven focused on the reason he'd come.

The staircase down to the lower levels was still blocked off by yellow and black barricades, so Wattson had most likely not gone that way, at least. Circling around the glinting lights that showed the location of a few hiding wild Pokemon, Steven headed deeper into the power plant instead.

Judging by what he'd seen of the building from outside, the generator systems were in the back. That made sense, of course, but something was strange — the floor and the walls were thrumming, louder and louder as he advanced. It seemed like too much for just the small charge that might naturally build in the turbines.

Indeed, when Steven stepped into the generator room, he could see that several lights were lit on the machinery that crowded the room. Noise from the turbines spinning in the water below and from the hidden pumps echoed until it was almost deafening.

Had Wattson turned it on to check something? Still, leaving it like this might be dangerous.

Thankfully, the controls on the main terminal were simple. Tapping several keys, Steven carefully pulled down a large lever, and the generator slowly began to shut off, growing quieter until only the dull clicks of cooling metal remained.

Sighing in relief, Steven reached up to rub at his ear. The vibrations from the machinery had left his limbs tingling and slightly numb.

...But where was Wattson?

If he had really been the one to turn the generator on, he must have still been around. After all, leaving it on without anyone present would be too risky.

"Wattson?" Steven called out, turning slowly to take another look around the generator room. "Wattson, are you here?"

There was no answer.

It was hard to say if anything was out of place, given that New Mauville was clearly showing signs of its long abandonment — forgotten boxes and piles of equipment left behind in the corners, discolored streaks long the walls, broken or missing floor and ceiling tiles. Not to mention the damage from the wild Pokemon that had claimed New Mauville...

Wait. Lifting one hand to his chin, Steven trailed his gaze thoughtfully over the scuff marks and dents. He couldn't tell how recent they were, but they didn't look like something Magnemites or Voltorbs might cause. Even for a stray Electrike, it would be a stretch.

A particularly large dent had been left in the corner of a steel container in the back of the room. His footsteps echoing in the tense silence, Steven made his way to it and gingerly touched the edge of the indentation. There were more scuff marks, long trails like something had been dragged, arcing around the corner of the container into the narrow space between it and the wall.

Fingers curling around a Poke Ball, Steven edged up to the corner. The chance of anything lying in wait was very low, but all the same, he tried to muffle his footsteps and his shaky breaths, as his heartbeat pounded in his ears.

He tensed and— jumped forward to look into the gap.

It was dark, the low glow of the lights barely reaching. For a moment, Steven could only tell see an indistinct shape squeezed in the very back, against the wall.

His eyes widened as he finally realized what he was looking at.

"Wattson! Wattson, are you alright?!"

Slumped over and motionless, Wattson did not respond.

~.~.~

Notes: Finally, we are on to the actual plot. I deeply apologize for how long it took.

But not without basically another OC, of course, jeez... In the games, Wattson's wife uses an Ace Trainer model, but based on her dialogue, she actually worked on New Mauville as well, which would have been "dozens" of years ago. ORAS actually doesn't have any Veteran trainers, so I'm assuming her Ace Trainer model is used in place of that.

As always, please review!

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