“Fisher reporting. Initial impressions are promising– going down to further examine structural integrity.”

“Understood, Fisher. Remember, radio won’t work down there– shoot your flare at the first sign of trouble. Rather waste our time than waste your life.”

“Loud and clear.”

Grigori unhooked his earpiece and descended down the dusty steps. Mildew and mold covered the side of the dingy stair case. Concrete steps for a concrete bunker. To think, something like this was only one mortar round beneath their feet. It’d been hollowed out by a few Excadrill, and all that was left to do was determine its viability as a secret base.

If good, then Rocket would establish it for ambushes, recon hide outs, or whatever else the war demanded of it. If not?

They’d rig it with mines and let the League kill themselves on it. His sparkling pride was slowly becoming yet another asset to Rocket's desire for death and destruction. 

“Audio log of Fisher, September XX, XXXX,” he spoke as he ducked beneath the low ceiling. An L.E.D light cut through the darkness like a blade. Much further in, he could see another staircase that rose to the surface. Besides that, it was little more than a long, narrow hallway than a proper bunker. All except one rotten wood door in the middle of it all.

“As expected, not much to the imagination,” he kicked the first pillar. All it accomplished was a loud clang against his steel-capped boots. He kept an eye to the ceiling as he approached the second pilar. Same thing. “Initial inspect of support beams is satisfactory enough. Reinforcement will keep them stable for elongated use.”

“No black molds or otherwise dangerous flora, our Pokemon deterrents appeared to have work.”

Grigori pulled out a yellow plastic rectangle. It gave the occasionally unnerving beep from passive radiation, but little more. “Radiation levels are below danger levels.”

“Inspecting central storage room,” he spoke softly into the receiver. The earth had rotted away the door, yet it had not fully dissolved the plaque that hung by its side. He hissed, then grit his teeth. A gas mask was pulled from his pack and he slowly strapped the stuffy thing to his scarred face. 

“NFPA rating of three, two, four outside of room. Given its placement, likely a potent explosive. It must be removed before renovations can start. Starting preliminary examination now."

He gently pushed on door, yet the wood was too far gone. It sank underneath his fingers, as dense as cotton candy. Shortly after, the rest of the structure collapsed softly. He cringed when it plopped on the ground. 

---

Caleb Harcourt

10 MP for Post