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Chapter 6: Abandoned

The nature preserve, Sea Mauville, was unfortunately only open to the public during daylight hours. Between everything that had happened and the length of the flight to reach the facility from Slateport, Steven ended up having to spend the night before setting out before dawn — again.

He hadn't slept much anyway, despite sending out Claydol to stand guard just in case. All the disconnected details kept spinning in his mind, trying futilely to fit together somehow, but there was just too much missing.

Hopefully, Sea Mauville would have the answers.

The nature preserve society representative had just arrived when Steven touched down on the sharply tilted deck. She stared at him in surprise — whether because because she didn't expect a visitor so early, or because she didn't expect one in a three piece suit. But at least she hadn't noticed him circling overhead until the preserve opened. She would have certainly given him a far more dubious look then.

"Welcome to the Sea Mauville Nature Preserve," she rallied, greeting him with a practiced smile. "Is this your first time visiting? Is there anything you'd like to know about the preserve?"

He considered asking something about the history of Sea Mauville, but the chances of her telling him something deeper than the basic outline were low. "Is it alright to look around?" he asked instead.

"Of course!" the society rep told him. "Some of the rooms are still locked from the original owners, but you are free to enter them — if you can find the keys. Exploring the facility is one of our visitors' favorite pastimes. But... please be aware that part of the facility is underwater. So..." She glanced meaningfully down at his attire again. So an expensive suit was not the best choice or likely to make it out intact, she meant.

Since he had gone spelunking in the same outfit more than once, Steven only shrugged, unconcerned.

~.~.~

So early in the morning and still empty of other humans, Sea Mauville held an unnatural, eerie atmosphere. The cries of the ever-present Wingulls outside were muffled by the thick metal walls, but the in and out of the waves against the hull and even inside it echoed through the empty halls and rooms. The walls themselves groaned as well, constantly shifting and settling. Between the yellow water proof lights that left shadows in every corner and the heavy tilt of the floor, the entire structure felt surreal, like something out of a dream or another world.

Steven shivered slightly; the air inside hadn't started to warm up yet. He didn't need to worry about feeling claustrophobic, not with all his experience in small caves, but he still felt a certain unease just from being there.

Moving deeper into the facility, he tried to ignore how loudly the sound of his footsteps bounced off the walls.

Since the nature preserve had been open to the public for a long time, everything within easy reach of the entrance to the deck would have been explored and scavenged thoroughly, he figured. Indeed, all the doors stood wide open, showing only empty rooms and overturned, beat up furniture.

There was a sign on the wall that looked like a list — of floor, Steven assumed, wiping away the grime that had gathered on top of it.

"...Slogans?" he read out, squinting at the faded letters. "Say good morning very loudly... Don't bring Pokémon to your workplace..."

They appeared but normal enough at first, if rather strict, but some of the text had been crossed out or added to, changing the lower slogans into something unsettling.

"Maintain top quality, give up your sanity... Worship and praise the founder... Don't expect time off before you retire... No need to think, just work unceasingly..." Steven pulled back, frowning. "The founder again... Stern said something about that too."

He'd said that the founder's identity was unknown, but the upper management of Greater Mauville Holdings had been fanatically loyal to them. What kind of person would the workers have changed the slogans to mockingly order 'worship and praise' for?

Sea Mauville had been designed with the same sense of ambition as New Mauville and its planned 69 subterranean floors, and even with half the facility underwater — and thus unlikely to still contain anything useful, even if Steven had any Pokemon capable of diving — exploring it was a time-consuming task. Despite his experience, he had started to lose track of time as he moved through the damp, gloomy rooms and corridors, only dimly aware that voices had begun to echo down from closer to the entrance as other visitors arrived at the preserve.

He'd tried to head inward and down, to where he figured there would have been less traffic, but all he'd found so far were a moldy ID card that might have once belonged to Stern and some half-decayed old magazines, including one with a picture of Wallace's sister on the cover. It had made Steven smile for a moment, before he sighed in frustration and continued his search.

Until finally, there was one room that was different. It was unlocked as well, and just as damaged as the rest, floor tiles missing, spiderwebs eating up one corner and dark water stains across every surface.

But someone had done their best to right the cabinet against the backwall and straighten the contents within — including a Hello Skitty doll. That splash of faded pink caught Steven's eye as he was passing by.

The cabinet contained the usual assortment of stray papers — an ID card, an invoice with far too overtime reimbursement... Even though Sea Mauville had been in danger of shutdown for a good while before it was finally closed, it felt like everyone had just fled, abandoning everything where it lay.

It made Steven wonder, especially for a case like this, where even personal belongings had been left behind — the Hello Skitty doll, but also a box of neatly ordered letters in the loopy handwriting of a child, messy drawings, and a few photographs of a young boy next to his mother.

"Takao Cozmo..." Steven read the name carefully signed on one of the drawings and shook his head at the unexpected coincidence.

He understood now why some visitor had gone to the trouble of ordering this particular room. These private things felt like a small monument, too important to be left just lying around haphazardly. But even so...

"Please excuse me," Steven muttered, ducking his head in apology as he pulled out a file folder that had also been left in the cabinet.

It felt a little like trespassing, but this was the best lead he'd had so far. The papers inside were ragged, but still mostly legible, and Steven flipped through them quickly, his lips moving absently as he puzzled out the words.

"Official... statement of apology... for the loss of the Odd Keystone..." he read out slowly, filling in the blurred parts. "Um, donated...? By the Ore... Oreburgh Mine?"

Unfortunately, the rest was too damaged to make out.

But at least that was something to start with.

~.~.~

He was almost to the water line when he finally found a locked door — and, more to the point, a room that hadn't been explored yet.

The door didn't even budge slightly when he jiggled the handle. Aside from being locked, it was also probably stuck in place after so long. It was thick too, and must have once looked quite impressive, but the once-shiny nameplate next to it had been rendered illegible by time and grime.

Steven glanced around to make sure he was alone. He hadn't been told not to do this, exactly, but it definitely felt like cheating...

"Go, Armaldo," he ordered quietly, holding out a Poke Ball.

Materializing, the revived fossil Pokemon looked around curiously. It habitually opened its mouth, but seeing no opponent, paused in confusion without letting out its usual roar. Letting out a few questioning clicks, it turned to Steven for answers.

Even though it was one of Steven's smaller Pokemon, being about his height if much bulkier, its spiked tail just barely missed the wall as it wagged excitedly. It shifted slightly, and the next swing left a long, shallow scratch — accompanied by a shrill, metallic noise that made Steven wince.

"Shhhh!" he shushed his Pokemon. Armaldo copied him, leaning and growing still as all its attention focused on him. "Can you open this door? But, carefully?" Steven asked, accompanied by a double-handed gesture toward the door in question.

Armaldo tilted its head, its widely separated eyes blinking, and turned to consider the door thoughtfully. Its claws opened and closed slowly, as if mentally measuring against the task. Then, drawing one claw back, it struck. With a sharp thrust, it wedged one pincer between the door and the jamb, smashing through the lock.

Steven winced again, although he didn't blame Armaldo — there was no hiding that the room had been blatantly broken into. He really hoped no one came to investigate the noise.

Twisting slightly, Armaldo wrenched open the door, which came unstuck with an unhappy groan, and pushed it open. It paused in the open doorway, clicking to itself, before turning to Steven.

He smiled, reaching out to rub the vestigial appendages at its neck. "Good job," he praise. "Thank you."

Eyes sliding shut in pleasure, Armaldo growled happily. Its tail began to swing enthusiastically again, and Steven hurried to recall it.

The room they had broken into was dark and stale, the quality of the air making Steven grimace as he stepped inside. Even untouched by any human since Sea Mauville's closure, it was in disarray. The cabinet had fallen over, spilling its contents across the floor, and the desk had tilted as it slid along the sloping floor, drawers hanging out. Mold and water stains darkened everything to an ugly gray-brown.

Steven picked his way gingerly between the scattered papers and debris, crouching down to pick up an old, hide-bound notebook. Clicking on the pocket flashlight he always carried along, he flipped through the pages.

"The damage caused by the cancellation of the New Mauville project has been catastrophic. As a member of the management, much of the blame and the debts will fall upon me..."

It was a journal, which had once belonged to a member of the Mauville management.

"But that will be little consolation to the employees working under me who will lose their livelihoods. I couldn't do a thing for them... I'm a man with no power..." Steven read on, his brows furrowing. The sentiment was one he could understand easily. His father was the same, feeling deeply responsible for the Devon employees that put their trust in the company and its president. "Protecting nature and Pokémon and the environment, it's a fine ideal to aspire to. And Wattson is a great man for dreaming of it all. But—"

The remaining pages had been torn out.

Stern had said that people poured their lives into Mauville — sacrificed even their families and happiness. Some of the rooms Steven had passed had been not just office but dorms. People had lived on Sea Mauville, seeing nothing else day in and day out.

It was only natural that at least some of them would resent those they saw as at fault for the company's collapse. Maybe at the time they saw themselves as powerless to do anything, like the owner of the journal, and that resentment festered for decades, until something made it suddenly erupt.

That was Stern's theory, at least. But something about it still didn't add up. Sighing in frustration, Steven snapped the journal shut and looked around the room again. He needed to keep going, and yet...

Steven was used to searching patiently, digging his way through cave after cave, layer after layer, coming up empty handed time after time, until he could uncover that one beautiful stone that made it all worthwhile. But somehow, all that careful patience escaped him now. An overwhelming sense of frustration welled up, choking, in his chest. Was there even something to find here? Or was he just wasting time — time he didn't have, his father didn't have.

A sharp sting of pain made him realize he was biting his lip hard enough to draw blood.

Drawing a shuddering breath, he tried to focus.

Most of the files scattered across the office were obviously too damaged to be of any use, he reasoned, moving the beam of his flashlight across the room slowly. So anything on the floor was a write off. The cabinet had emptied out when it tipped over. That left only the desk.

As the facility had begun to tilt over the years, the desk — along with the rest of the room's contents — had slowly slid down the incline. The drawers, too, had rolled out, revealing their contents.

...Except one. Steven's eyes narrowed, and he reached out to tug experimentally at the drawer's handle. It rattled but didn't open.

'A locked drawer... That just might be it,' he thought.

Shifting his flashlight between his teeth, he fished in his jacket's inner pockets for the small array of miniature hand tools he managed to squirrel away. Among them was a chisel. Wedging it in the gap between the drawer and the desk right over the lock, he gave it a firm tap with the heel of his hand and, when the drawer bent but did not open, another.

The lock finally shattered, sending the drawer shooting out. The contents clattered noisily as it bumped against Steven, coming to a stop.

A few bottles of pills, the labels long since worn off, an old-fashioned key, a small stone that Steven eyed with interest — and a folder, CONFIDENTIAL stamped across it in large letters that were still readable despite the stains.

Unfortunately, the documents inside were not so lucky. There wasn't a single word that remained completely untouched by damage, and the header was completely gone in a dark smear. Steven peered at the paper with a frown.

"The develop... ment on new... turned out to be true," he read slowly. "The... hm... that uses... Pokémon...? bio... energy is called... ah."

It was a report about Infinity Energy.

"So they were investigating Infinity Energy," Steven muttered to himself.

There had been other reports in the folder as well, but he couldn't even begin to decipher them. Dropping the folder onto the desk, he pocketed the key and the stone, just in case. Packing up his tools again, he looked around the office one last time, but there didn't seem to be anything else worth checking.

He felt increasingly doubtful that the rest of the facility held any other useful clues. But the only other thing he could do would be to go back to Rustboro and try to help the vice president sift through what his father had been doing before this started — an even less encouraging prospect. He might as well check the rest of Sea Mauville, Steven supposed. There wasn't much left above water...

Stepping out into the hallway, Steven stopped suddenly.

He thought he had seen something, at the end of the corridor. Another visitor? Just a shadow? He couldn't hear anything except the echo of distant voices and waves against the hull. Had he imagined it?

With everything else that had happened, he couldn't help reaching for his Poke Balls, just in case. The corridors were too narrow for Metagross or Aggron, and Skarmory didn't do well in enclosed spaces, but maybe Cradily—

An explosion rocked Sea Mauville, throwing Steven against the wall. The entire facility shuddered and, with a deafening, unceasing screech of metal giving way, began to tilt over.

It seemed Stern had been right. They really had been after Steven all along.

~.~.~.

Notes: Obviously, I changed the layout of Sea Mauville a bit. It has to be bigger that what we see, and I didn't want to fuss around with finding the room keys anyway. The powerless man's journal is a bit longer in the game, but I decided to chop out some bits. Eh, canon, whatever. Who cares about that, right?

As always, please review!

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