Beyond the narrow entrance, the space inside opened up considerably.
Several rooms branched off from the main passage. Some looked like chemical laboratories — worktables, equipment, sealed containers. Others appeared to be storage areas. Nova could not read the specifics of what was being worked on, but the setup was clearly organised with purpose.
In the last and largest room, he stopped.
There was a Flygon inside — bound, heavily restrained. It was noticeably larger than the one Nova had fought in the desert, a full size bigger. A Frosmoth drifted through the air above it, continuously scattering Sleep Powder to keep it subdued. The room smelled of chemicals and recycled air.
Nova looked through the window. His Cultivation System's scanning function ran automatically.
The Flygon registered as a Purple Talent individual — level 70. That was close to the natural ceiling for how far a wild Pokémon could push its own development. It was being held in place by the Frosmoth and what appeared to be electromagnetic restraint equipment mounted into the walls.
Behind the Flygon, stretching across most of the room's floor space, was a collection of Pokémon Eggs.
Nova took in what the scanner was returning and felt his breath catch. The eggs were high quality — genuinely so. In the wild, White Talent was the norm; here it was the rarest type in the pile. Green and Blue Talent made up the majority. A few Purple Talent eggs were scattered through the cluster. And somewhere among them, the scanner caught something else.
A glimmer of gold.
Before Nova could look more closely, Taylor's voice cut through from ahead.
"Keep your eyes forward. Start looking at things you have no business seeing, and that becomes a problem for you."
Nova pulled back from the window and followed. The Gold Talent egg lodged itself at the back of his mind like a splinter — impossible to ignore, but not something he could do anything about right now.
He filed it away and kept moving. If there was information to be pulled from Taylor before things went sideways, the window was closing.
"Boss Taylor," Nova said, as casually as he could manage, "that Flygon back there — is the colony out here your work?"
Taylor said nothing.
Nova kept going.
"The scale alone is impressive. Most university research departments couldn't produce something like this with full institutional backing. Professors with entire teams behind them — honestly, they would struggle to match what you have here. If any of this ever got published, Boss Taylor, you would be looking at some kind of international prize. Anyone who claims to be the top research mind in Original Team is only second — because you're first."
Taylor was quiet for a moment.
Then: "Shut your mouth."
Nova waited a beat. "The methodology — the way the colony has developed, the way the subjects have responded — it is genuinely impressive work. Without institutional support, to achieve this level —"
"I said shut up. The results are not finished. We are nowhere near done."
Another pause.
"If the maternal stock had been stronger from the beginning, this would have been completed long ago. Now stop talking."
It was not much. But it was enough to build from.
The Flygon back in that room was the breeding stock. The eggs behind it were the output. Whatever Taylor was developing, it was still incomplete, and the quality of the original subject had been a limiting factor throughout. That Flygon had not been a willing participant in any of this. Whatever it felt toward Taylor was not something that would read as gratitude.
The control room sat at the deepest point of the facility. Taylor went straight to the communication terminal and began trying to reach the Lune Town branch.
He tried for several minutes. Nothing came back.
The line itself was still active — the relay stations buried through the Tamar Desert had not been cut. The hardware was intact. The people on the other end were not.
"Boss Taylor," Nova said. "I was telling the truth, wasn't I?"
Taylor stared at the terminal. "...Looks like you were."
He did not finish the sentence.
Arbok lunged without a sound, jaws opening wide, and sprayed a concentrated stream of Acid directly at Nova.
Corvisquire moved instantly, snapping up a Protect barrier — but Golbat was already on it, slamming into it from the side before the barrier could fully form, forcing Corvisquire to hold its ground rather than shield Nova.
Nova's hand had been wrapped around a third Poké Ball for the past several minutes.
He threw it.
Onix erupted from the ball and filled most of the control room in an instant. The space was far too confined for it to extend its full length. It coiled tightly instead, pulling itself into a compact mass that put its body squarely between Nova and Arbok.
The Acid hit Onix directly. Its stone hide sizzled where the liquid made contact, and a sharp, acrid smell rose into the air as white smoke curled up from the surface. Onix cried out — the pain was real — but Rock-type Pokémon carry a natural resistance to Poison, and the damage fell short of what the attack deserved.
Onix did not wait. It launched Rock Throw in every direction around it. The throws were not precise — there was no room for precision in a space this tight — but the sheer volume of them kept Arbok from pressing in. Closing the distance on something that size, hurling rocks indiscriminately, was not straightforward.
At the front of the room, Nidoking had already turned and was charging toward Taylor.
Bring down the Trainer first.
Taylor threw his third Poké Ball.
A level 43 Obstagoon appeared directly in Nidoking's path and immediately used Obstruct, planting itself as a solid wall between them. Nidoking was stopped cold. Forcing through Obstagoon's defence in a space this tight was going to take time, and any attempt to push through risked a sharp Defence drop from the contact.
Three battles broke out in the same room simultaneously, and all three stalled almost at once.
Corvisquire was the stronger developed Pokémon, but the level gap between it and Golbat was not wide enough to end things quickly — even a Golbat making minimal effort could hold on.
Nidoking's raw power was not in question, but Obstagoon had been built for exactly this kind of close, grinding defensive battle.
Arbok was genuinely dangerous, but Onix was coiled across the room like a wall, and Rock Throw kept the space between them hostile to approach.
Neither side could close it out.
Taylor looked across the room at the teenager who had matched his ambush and come out even.
"I am curious about something," Nova said, keeping his voice steady. "You confirmed I was telling the truth. So why the attack? What is the reasoning?"
Taylor gave a short laugh. "Because you told the truth — that is exactly why. Think it through. If Original Team in the Norlandia Alliance is finished, everyone who knew my name and my face is gone. If I take you out here as well, that is a clean slate. I walk out of this desert with my research, find a position at a university somewhere, and no one knows a thing. Does that not sound reasonable?"
He had chosen the control room deliberately. He had no interest in saving the base. He wanted to bury everything — the research, the equipment, the evidence — under the desert sand. Cut the connection to Original Team entirely and step out the other side as someone untraceable.
Nova stared at him.
That only works if every single person who knew you is actually gone. What if someone was taken alive?