Hey everyone. Things have been really slow from me recently, but then again I have a lot of work on my plate, so don't expect too much from me. This tale was primarily inspired by two things, one being the obvious, Zinou's Element of One fiction, and second (would you believe) Princess Tutu, which I hope gets a local release, because Mythos is so cool. Or Mute. Whichever you prefer. He inspired the character from this fic, but I assure you, MY Mute is definitely not a character from a book brought to life by magic, nor does he lack feeling. He has a lot of feelings, and is probably wondering why the voices in his head won't shut up ^^ Anyway, I don't know if I'll be able to finish this one, so please give me a prod or two now and then, and we'll see where things go. Rating will go up as violence and psychosis comes into it, and maybe the insinuated love scene or two. I know you B/L fans. The Br/N fans too.

Oh god, I can't believe I just wrote that!

Anyway, this is for Zinou who has kindly beta'd for me, DarkSpiner, who is so B/L it's scary and makes me laugh some times, the almighty Sh33p, who will no doubt hunt me down and kill me, and lastly Duo/Biowolf, who will also hunt me down and kill me. I don't mind, nor do I care much…this is too much fun…^^

Prologue: Don't wake the dead

The sun burned.

For Hammond Altile, it was only a minor annoyance as he went about his job in the excavations, carefully guiding those who worked beneath him to unveil the complex in front of him. It was obviously old Empire in origin – after all, he was standing in the site where Guygolos had been before it's untimely destruction. Perhaps, he reflected, the people had thought the world was ending. And four hundred years ago, people were like that, superstitious, careful, worried. They had every reason to be.

But no matter. The world was a safe place, the world was controlled. In only a few days since the Gold Cup, the members of BackDRAFT had been either sentenced to death or put in prison for life. Either way, you were screwed. My, hadn't life come far?

In the end, he hadn't been screwed over, and in reality, that was all that mattered. There were a number of pilots – good pilots – who had come through unscathed, too…People like Stigma Stoller, Pierce Granger, Luis Sanders, Claude Polta…his friends. All good Zoid warriors, who somehow managed to escape the long arm of the law, as stupid and outdated as it was. Sanders and Stoller were off getting ready for the next round of battles, organising a team to start running. Pierce…oh, where was she again? Up North, investigating a job opportunity in the ZBC, that was it…and Polta…

"Uhh, Sir!"

Polta was a good man. Really he was. Altile just wished he'd stop being so damn apologetic all the time. The dark haired man ran up to him in the strangely youthful way he always did, and paused for a moment, bent over, panting heavily, before brightening.

"What is it, Polta?" Asked Altile, gently.

"…Nothing, except…we think…we've found the…entrance way."

"Excellent. Are we going in then?"

"Yeah, but…we're waiting for you…"

"All right. Let's go then."

Hard to believe the man ever became a Zoid pilot. Few knew the truth about Polta – the man was almost completely blind. Born without a rare disease known as the Licten Disorder, Polta's eyes were naturally coloured a pale, pale orange, and going out in the light undiagnosed as a child had let to him damaging his eyes to the point where he couldn't see at all during the day. Within the dark he seemed to have an edge over everyone else, and working carefully, BackDRAFT had actually helped him by creating his visor – the only thing that allowed him to see light in the form of electrical fields. Polta always wore it now, but during the night when he was in close company he'd take it off and walk the night alone. Any kind of light…except maybe moonlight…hurt him. But on more than one occasion, Altile had heard him mention something about 'dark light' and how it reflected things in the darkness…the only way he could truly see.

The fact he had become a Zoid pilot meant he was really good. Not only did the visor pick up electrical signals and display the picture to him on the visor, but his sense of touch and reflexes were heightened, and it had a direct link with the Zoids he used, plugging perfectly into their sensory system. He was young, much younger than he ever let on, and not hampered at all by his disability.

Altile ducked into the tents they had set up to shield the diggers and the smaller, fragile Zoids they used to dig away the rubble.

"I want a report." He asked, catching up to Polta's spindly form.

"You were right about this being Imperial in origin. This facility was probably here the same time the city was destroyed. Are we talking the DeathSaurer here, boss?"

"No, this happened around ten years after that monster was put to sleep…permanently…around the same time Ultimate Xs were supposedly made. Not too many of the old stories really exist now…people just wanted to forget." Altile touched the stone surface. It was a doorway, that was for sure, dark, oppressive, but through time there still remained one pure thing – the insignia over the door, the dragon curled around the sword, it's wings outstretched, mouth open, snarling. For a moment, he held his breath, unsure to dream than possibly, quite possibly, they had unearthed the lab of the esteemed Doctor Thomas Richard Shubaltz, said to have been buried under the debris. But that was impossible – the lab was shut down and destroyed, completely. He'd studied the maps that still existed, mapping out the city, and the locations as to where the lab may have been. It was said that Shubaltz had pioneered the Ultimate X system, using ancient Zoidian technology, and even…even cloned organoids. Organoids had once been legend – so much information had been lost in those terrible dark times, but there had been reports of wild ones far North, apart from the odd domestic one. Shubaltz probably let them all go or something.

"Ahh…how I wish I could have met him…"

"He was one of the warriors who helped defeat the DeathSaurer, right?" Polta asked, rubbing his arms. While it was warm beneath the tarp, there was a chill there, a chill that went into the bones.

"Actually no, he wasn't, but he was one of the support team. He's very revered in the circles of science. But he was known to do a few black ops projects too…and that's what we're looking for. Okay boys, let's start here…"

They both took a step back as the Demantis lurched forward and started to dig, carefully removing the rubble left that held up the door. The old metal panel was scratched and dented, but still stood, immune to whatever had been thrown at it. If records were correct, it was nothing short of a shot from the Gravity Cannon, or perhaps a neutron bomb. The original UltraSaurus had been cloned several times by the Helic manufacturers, and that was what the ZBC used as their monitoring force. The original one had been destroyed by some unknown force and left to rot in the desert and funnily enough, the same desert that the BeserkFURY had met its match in the LigerZERO…there was a coincidence there, but he was unable to investigate as of yet. Altile was going to have to go out and examine it after the search was done with this one. He had to hand it to his team – they were a bunch of good guys, as eager as he was to explore the past. Find out what had happened.

But Polta was obviously not as happy about it as he was. "BackDRAFT is gone now…remember the BerserkFURY. We don't want another incident like that…I mean…actual organoids…"

"Don't worry Polta. I do remember that monster." His dark eyes narrowed at the thought of Sara and her bastard son Vega. There were rumours she'd actually killed her husband or something because he was never in the picture, was he? Never around to urge his son on (not that Vega needed any encouragement) Never around in the offices…Sara…Vicious bitch, that one, with an equally slimy little turd as her offspring. "The organoid stuff was part of the black ops project. A number of senators on both sides believed that what he was doing was immoral and wrong, but he had the support of much of the scientific body of both Guylos and Helic. He did succeed, but for some reason shut the facility down…"

"Do you know why?"

"That I don't know. He disappeared after that, as did the other heads of the project."

"Sir!"

"Yes Baz, what is it?"

"We've found something! It's amazing!"

Altile gave Polta a grin and leapt down the embankment and past the pair of Demantis who had been carefully removing the boulders from out of the way. Now that the door was fully exposed, he could see something that was truly unbelievable. The security system was still in place.

Shoulder height, there was a small raised surface that lifted up as he touched it and felt around for the tiny catch that would release it. Scratched and dented, it had withheld the offence of time, and as he looked at it, he realised what he was looking at – a security keypad.

If the blast couldn't open the door, then how could we? I bet this thing is charged particle beam proof.

He touched it sadly, dismayed that there was no way in. But as he did so, there was a tiny, almost inaudible beep, and the pad lit up.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph…" He muttered. "This place has power." Slightly louder this time. "This place has power!"

The hush spread out over the crowd of assembled men and women, all of which wore the same surprised look on the their face. Beside Altile, Polta gave a little hiss of excitement. The past had always fascinated him as a child and as now as an adult, he had been the first to put up his hand to help Altile in his search for the Ultimate X.

"What kind of lock is it?"

"No key card, it's just a number lock. Could be any number of digits…" Altile sighed. Stuck at another dead end…

Polta shrugged and reached past him. "We can try anything, right? Give me a look."

There was really nothing to loose. The door was proofed against whatever happened then the rest of the facility on ground level would be. The builders were no fools; it was built into the bedrock, far away from any fault lines. In short, this was supposed to be an impregnable fortress. They'd need more than luck to get in here. "Sure."

Feeling around it, the younger man found what he was looking for – the fact that the casing was all in one piece, but the key pad was not, it was set into it and therefore tamper proof if you bombed the place. Patting his pockets for something that might help him, he found his BackDRAFT key card (he still had it? He was sure he'd thrown it away…) and used it to gently lever up the pad, carefully pulling it off. Electronics had always fascinated him, and he was rewarded with a bright spark from the circuitry, and examined it. Even though it had power, the wires were frayed, old, but…with any luck…

Lightly pulling out the wires he found his heart thumping with excitement. For all his abilities as a Zoid pilot, he'd always felt inferior to his peers thanks to his disability, even with the visor…but now he had the upper hand…the wires were warm, buzzing away against his skin…

"Hold this one…"

"'K…"

"Okay, open sesame…"

There was a burst of sparks, a yelp of pain, and a squeal that went on and on as the metal door came open. Altile slapped his forehead in disgust at his own stupidity – he didn't need luck, did he? Polta was known for his love of electrical things. One of the reasons he'd been brought into BackDRAFT was the naive innocent way he had when it came to opening electronic locks of any kind, a sort of indifference that made him legendary, the thought he wasn't doing anything wrong, just looking at something.

"I knew it. Blast proof. They still make these today. You can't get into them using any machines, and there are no import nodes to plug a hacking device in because it would jeopardise the blast proof thing it has on it. See? It's housed in titanium phalidyde, used in Zoid armour. Set directly into the wall with tiny drilled holes to get the wires in and out of the electrics." Polta's smile grew wider. "So what happens if the boss forgets the PIN? Or one of the buttons gets screwed? You have to lever the top off. They're used so often in government buildings because they're blast proof. Little known fact that you can do it…it's a hairline crack…"

"Sometimes you scare me."

"Sorry boss."

The gaping hole that faced him was somewhat frightening, as was the smell, or lack of smell as it were. Looking from his crew to the door, Altile stepped inside, and watched in amazement as the lights flicked on, warmed by his body heat. As he walked the lights further down came on and Altile gained more confidence. It was a scientific research lab all right.

But for the excitement that drove him, something else was niggling his consciousness – there was only one tunnel. Heavily fortified, apart from the occasional dent from a fight long ago. It was large enough for humans and small Zoids, but obviously heavy artillery wasn't allowed down here. What was this place?

He almost slammed into the door as he rounded a tight corner, managing to pull up at the last minute. While the outside doors had been oppressive, the corridor lacking dust, any side doors and humanity, this door was simple, metal once more, but covered with spray paint. He only paused for a moment before someone barrelled into him, and both he and Polta fell to the ground.

"Sorry!"

"Don't worry about it. Just get off me."

"Right. Sorry."

"Polta!"

"Sorry!"

"Damn it, shut UP!!" A pause for breath. "Look at the door."

"Yeah?"

"What does it say?"

"Uh…give me a minute…"

But both read the same thing as they sat up, rubbing knees and elbows that had hit the perforated floor, a chilling phrase that told them that this was no ordinary facility.

"Sounds like religious rubbish if you ask me."

Altile tried to smile, but his mouth couldn't do it. "These people were very religious, Polta. Not like nowadays, where salvation can be bought for ten quid on a street corner. I think this could be one of the more…hush-hush projects…"

"Ah, boss?" Polta's voice trembled. "I don't think we should be here."

"I don't either. But something is here…can't you feel it?"

The younger man pulled himself up to his feet and dusted his tunic and pants down. "Boss, as soon as that door opened, I felt something come out. I thought I heard voices for a moment…someone talking about something. About…how it was a shame the experiment didn't work…and that…there was little time left…"

"Really?"

"Yeah. I thought it was you, but you don't have a Scottish accent. Do you?"

"No. I don't." Altile rubbed his upper arms, trying to banish the cold. "The facility was bombed."

"No shit." Both men stood very still. "Do we continue?"

"I'm not sure."

"Well, you've studied this stuff…what could be behind it?" Polta asked. "What could be buried here?"

"…any number of things. See the dents back there? Could be an organoid manufacturing plant…could be a new type of Zoid…after all, we found those three GenoSaurers the Fuma Team seem to have run off with in a place similar to this. Hey, is there water beneath us?"

"I guess so. Or something. Don't change the subject."

Altile scratched his chin. "Must be another Zoid."

"You sure?"

"No-o, not really…but we've come this far…"

"Fair enough. I'll get the others."

"Thank you."

And as Polta ran off, leaving Altile to stare at the door, there could only be a feeling of…anticipation…in the air. Of patience. Waiting. Which proves that curiosity may have killed the cat…

…But satisfaction brought it back.

[In the name of God, Heaven and the Virgin Mary, we clip these wings to silence the dark son and pray he sleeps forever in eternal peace. May God guide his soul to a peaceful rest, and that he will walk in the light once more – amen.]

~ to be continued.

Sorry for the religious references. Comments and critiques are very welcome…