Someone was breaching the Fallabor town LOCKBOX.

The alert swarmed HQ with flashing red lights, sirens, and every other jingle imaginable. Felix was still in his office, delegating some task, when the infection reached him, rending his attention into two.

"Take this to fern delaney ," he informed the subordinate, expression steadfast, voice flattened into a firm line. "And send for assistance."

If the breach is as bad as the report indicated, it would take more than a couple of grunts to smoke them out.

With those final commands now sent forth, fluttering from the lips of another, the admin was allowed to shift into gear and make his way outside. To fallabor.

`-`

Earth battered the outskirts of the bunker. In jutted spikes and scattered pieces, MATIAS SILPH had transformed the space into an active warzone, full of blood, measured attacks, and howls for more.

But Felix could all but ignore that for now - Zev Harcourt would keep him in place, just as bryan delarosa would maintain the stragglers who invaded the other side of the perimeter.

So, with a flash, he fetched for his dragapult, who evoked several lashing tongues of black and grey out from the ground. Behind, the draconic ghost lingered, slacked jaw and all.

Together, they plunged into the familiar tunnel and warped onto the other side, appearing just above where the jail cell was kept.

Had it not been for the adrenaline, memories would've urged the admin to gander once more around; to see, feel, and remember the hours spent pacing just above, and how it only led to him relenting and stealing a visit anyways.

It was odd, how it worked. 

She was an average girl without any merit worth curiosity. But, somehow, he grew to enjoy their curt conversations. It reminded him of the old golden finch his mother had once gifted him a long time ago.

Click.

In a rush he barreled downstairs, gallade and dragapult now at his sides, the ladder more clandestine, more stealthy than the former who kept beside his trainer, as he's done time and time again.

No words were necessary for the next barrage of actions; within seconds, the door of the staircase was slammed open, and a bullet pierced through the darkness, leaving behind only the flash of the muzzle. It was aimed at Greyson Connors , but distance could make any fool a target.

With one hand over the bar, the admin swung his body over the staircase's railing, launching himself no more than a handful of feet away from the pair, all while his gallade kept to side, eyes a fervent shade of magenta pink, as he attempted to use PSYCHIC on the pair.

"..."

Greyson Connors annalise henderson

In the same instantaneous burst of power, defenses rose to action. A blinding stretch of yellow kicked out from the gallade's foot, shielding both of them against the elite four's assault.

"What took so long?"

The admin called out through the piling smoke and debris. His green eyes angled themselves at Greyson, then the yellow canary he'd kept at his side for the past few weeks.

He cocked his gun for another shot, this time ensuring his aim on the trainer. At the same time, Gallade prepared itself to dive forward.

"Forget?"

@tag