A/N: Whoo! Fourth Fic! Bit of a longer prologue that doesn't make much sense right now. There are subtle little hinty-things you should probably pick up on if you don't want to be lost in the future. Set after book three...because I haven't read book four yet :sob: So just pretend that none of book four ever happened, kay?

I tried to make this story seem lighter and more happy than some of my previous ones that are dark and scary and bloody. There will be blood (hence the T rating) but not as much scary. XD

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Maximum Ride, blah, blah, blah, yeah! Enjoy!

Prologue: A New Prototype

The smooth white walls of the elevator didn't even tremble as the metal box shot passed countless levels and floors. It seemed to slow at several landings, as if deciding whether or not it should stop, before picking up speed once more and moving on. One of the power strips that fed light into the elevator had blown out, leaving half of the cart cast in darkness.

It was this single blown out light that made the elevator's soul occupant very, very angry. He was a man who hated imperfection. Every hair of his dark beard was combed expertly into place. Every wrinkle in the long white lab-coat dangling around his knees was ironed out with a skilled hand. Every pencil in his pocket, every piece of data in his hand-held computer, every thought in his very head was organized to perfection.

The man, annoyed at his bad eyesight that had come with his age, squinted at the blown out strip and pondered whether or not it would be professional to scale the elevator walls and fix it himself. He thought better of it after a while; coming to the conclusion that such physical activity might wrinkle his shirt. Still…the bulb very much annoyed him.

When the elevator finally slid to a smooth halt, the man almost frowned. He was enjoying his time in the silent and empty box. It reminded him very much of the solitary confinement chambers he had spent most of his destructive childhood in. Observed by doctors and nurses in greed scrubs, machines that blinked, and machines that whirled. Many physiologists had tried very hard in their lifetime to see into the prodigy's mind…all had failed miserably.

The doors slid open soundlessly.

A short balding man with cold eyes was waiting for him when he stepped out. The shorter man, who had Japanese origins in his blood, looked as though he was about to bow, but thought better of it and offered a hand instead. "Doctor Pendragon, a pleasure to finally meet you in person."

The Doctor ignored the lab attendant's hand and strode stiffly from the elevator box, "There's a light out," he mumbled, jerking his head back toward the now closing elevator. The lab attendant swiped a hand across his forehead and frowned, "Yes. We'll get janitorial to take care of that for you, sir. Sorry for the inconvenience."

Doctor Pendragon glanced around the small cube of lab compartments the elevator had taken him into. The desks were cluttered and the machines were loud. People rushed back and forth in a seemingly mindless dance, signing notes, checking lab results, translating long streams of code. Anything to keep them looking busy and important in the eyes of the Director.

"If you'll just follow me, sir," said the lab attendant, who made a point of straightening out his coat so the plastic nametag could be seen clearly. It read JOHN TUKARI in black inscribed letters. Doctor Pendragon frowned as he followed John down the cluttered rows of cubicles. Frowning, as it so happened, was one of the Director's favorite pastimes…and he was very good at it.

"We've been working on a number of projects," John rambled as they left the lab and entered a long hall with wide windows covering one side. Every once in a while the long span of windows would be broken by a wide black bar, splitting the long hallway into four sections. As the Director glanced almost distractedly through the first window, he saw the purpose of the bars.

Each window was like a peephole into a wide room. The rooms were square and white, held no windows, and almost no furniture. Wide fluorescent strips ran overhead, leaving no shadows or hidden spaces. The glass windows covered one wall of each room entirely. Plexi-glass to be specific. Virtually indestructible.

In the first room, a round and colorful rug was placed haphazardly in the center. A bed with bright sheets was pressed against the wall, accompanied by a nightstand with a yellow lamp that danced across the walls. An open chest was at the foot of the bed, clearly meant to be the resting place of the numerous children's toys spread over the rug.

There was a small girl curled up in the corner, her eyes fixed on the ground.

"She's an experiment in progress," John informed, continuing his brisk pace down the hall. Doctor Pendragon followed without a second look at the girl, who, in turn, followed them both with a sharp eye until they were out of sight.

Each room was similar. Bright rugs and cozy beds, open chests and scattered toys. In the second room, a boy lay across the bed with an arm over his eyes. In the third room, twin girls pushed a wooden train back and forth across the rug. Each one followed the walking Director with their eyes. Cold and hard. Starved and lifeless.

"But this," said John, turning around to walk backwards so he could address the Director, "is what I really wanted to show you. It's an old design, but with a completely new approach. It's more compact than before, more durable than the last design. A completely new prototype."

Doctor Pendragon turned to the window, his eyes sliding half-shut as he tilted his head to inspect the occupant of the cell.

It was a boy, no older than twelve or thirteen. Built thin and small with dark brown hair that stuck up in disordered half-curls around his skull. His skin was pale and flawless, spotted with freckles that hinted at an Irish descendent. The loose white clothes all the cell-occupants had been wearing hung about his thin frame like a wet blanket, making him look even smaller than he was.

Pale brown eyes watched them approach.

"We introduced the DNA to his system when he was still an embryo," John explained, his voice hushed as he watched Doctor Pendragon's intense gaze. "His body accepted it naturally and it grew to him smoothly…more smoothly than any of the other testing subjects. Look at the way he moves. It's fluid. Like water."

The boy, who had been staring hard at a colorful wooden boat on the rug, glanced up as if just noticing his two observers. Like the others, he stared at them strangely…yet, unlike the others, he was smiling.

John held up his hand to the glass and pressed his palm against it, ignoring the disapproving look of the Director who hated fingerprints. The boy lifted off the floor and walked swiftly to the window, his bare feet padding soundlessly across the rug and onto the tile. He pressed his palm to the glass opposite of John's hand. Creating a smaller impression of the lab attendant's palm.

John smiled, crouching down to the boy's eyelevel, "We call him Oliver. Ollie for short. As you know, most of the test subjects we've introduced the lupine DNA into have shown…violence and aggression at an early age. Ollie's different. He's growing up and behaving just a child his age should. He talks to us as though he was human. As if he really is a child and not just…"

John's sentence faded as his smile dropped.

"Just an experiment," Doctor Pendragon finished.

John nodded, lifting his hand from the glass, "Yeah. Just an experiment."

Doctor Pendragon observed the look that crossed the lab technician's face. It was almost sad, regretful…the way a parent looks at their child when they're sick or hurt. A look that said 'I care for you'. Doctor Pendragon looked hard at the boy who was still holding his palm up to the glass.

He would be trouble.

The Doctor's at Itex lab had been specifically trained to avoid attachment to any of the test subject. It was that very reason the former Director of this particular lab had been exiled from any contact with Itex permanently. Everyone in every lab all over the world knew that if Jeb Batchelder ever showed up around Itex again…he would be killed.

Attachments were dangerous. Just as the attachment between Batchelder and his subjects had been disastrous. John motioned with his hand from the other end of the hall where he had walked to while the Director was lost in thought. "Sir? Are you coming? There's still a lot more to see in the labs."

Doctor Pendragon nodded stiffly, removing his gaze from the palm pressed against the glass on the other side. He didn't even bother to look back at the boy that watched them leave. There was no point to it…no point at all.

Why waste his time on the walking dead?

There was no question to the matter.

The boy would have to be destroyed.