Since Meteno, Felix had been racking his brain on how best to prepare themselves for the war that was just on the edge of beginning. And, through those sessions of thought, it occurred to him: how well did they truly understand the region? Just a few months ago, a report came in detailing the aftermath of a few rockets' experience on the mirage islands, and given everything else, he wouldn't be surprised if a similar occurrence was preparing itself just over the horizon.

In fact, the rupture at Mt Pyre almost confirmed that to be a very real possibility.

Which led him there, at Nautica, scouting out for the 3rd day in a row that week. For the past month or so, the Admin had been tending to the same post, watching as its owners flowed in and out from the hanger, at odd intervals each time. So far, from what he could tell, it would be nearly impossible to pinpoint the two to an exact schedule, but he tried for the most part.

Now, after growing confident enough to make a move, he was ready to breach the headquarters.

Hidden among the forestry surrounding the back of the hanger, Felix's eyes peered out, carefully watching it as he had done in the past. This time, however, when angelo vestri left, he remained, adamant to wait at least 40 minutes before even approaching.

"Okay, let's go."

Placing his newly improved mask over his face, the man pushed forward toward the hanger. Beside him, his ace stood, running up to the door before he held the chance to do so.

"Teleport us inside."

The gallade nodded at the command before reaching toward his trainer, with the full intent of sending them to the other side without detection. What he didn't know were the lurking ghosts awaiting their entrance.

angelo vestri

"Good. Go keep a lookout while I finish up in here."

It would typically take 5, maybe 10 minutes top, but by the look of what he'd already seen, the disorganization would put a wrench through his plans. No matter.

Gallade set off to fulfill his trainer's commands, TELEPORTING back outside to encircle the hanger, in case of any lingering eyes.

All the while, Felix continued to make headway into the darkened office space, using the glow of his flashlight to investigate the small nooks and crannies each wall of the paperwork provided. But, there came difficulty when about everything came across as important, while also not important, all at once, pulling him down into small spurts of confusion.

It wasn't until his third circle around the first floor that he relented into the philosophy that: everything of substance has to be guarded, whether by pokemon, steel, or some obscure wooden drawl. It wouldn't be out in open with everything else.

It was through that logic the man found himself lurking deeper within the hangar, down near the back.

angelo vestri

Outside, the world was kept in a preserved silence. There'd be a rustle here, and some crackling branches there, but for the most part, everything kept to its place, with only the setting sun acting as an indicator of the passing time.

Gallade cautiously patrolled the outside scope of the hangar, rotating around the building several times over. His sharp gaze swept the horizon like clockwork, moving left then right then left again until no piece of his surroundings was left untouched. For the most part, he'd gather nothing more than the occasional fluff of a buneary's tail. It wasn't until a ghostly spectral emerged from the corners of his vision that the swordsman would spring into action.

Bringing his arms together, the gallade's outline began to vibrate intensely, growing faster and faster until his image began to fade and mesh into two, then three, reaching up to 5 separate copies of himself. (DOUBLE TEAM)

Inside was a stark contrast to the tranquility of the outside. The INFESTION ran fast and deep, scaling up his legs with terrifying precision.

"Shit."

His fingers erupted into a search party, fumbling for the button of his pokeball. It found it, and with a click, the outline of an aegislash emerged, immediately moving it a FURY of SLICES along the horde amassed around his legs (FURY CUTTER).

By the time the small collection of ghost types was shooed away, another figure entered the scene, precise and heavy with intent.

"Tch."

angelo vestri

Running, all three copies of the gallade looked to strike the dragapult, arms already coated in collected darkness. It moved, looking to sear them from existence with its wisps of flame, and it does, but not before the original broke through the barrier of space between them, a NIGHT SLASH readied and aimed for his body.

Inside Felix, now freed from the INFESTATION, looked out to the owner of the hangar. His expression remained blank, though the pilot would have difficulty seeing that behind the hardened mask.

"That's none of your concerns."

A sharp whistle broke out. Then, with several slashes, the aegislash sent forth a series of AERIAL ACE cuts out toward them, looking to create sharp cuts of wind toward them. Even if it's protected against, it looked to push them back.

angelo vestri