Author's note: The chapter is called The Night, a song by Disturbed on the album Indestructible. It suited the song, and it's got a nice tune.

Anyway, hello there. Thanks for all the reviews, I do enjoy receiving them, because you enjoyed reading it (well, the reviews were all a thumbs up perspective, so I'm glad). I mean, this crossover hasn't yet been explored, so, I'm glad it's getting some good reviews so far.

Anyway, if anyone was questioning the different uses of the "" and '', it's "" for Amestrian people, and '' for people from the Matrix or real world. "" are also applied to those speaking the Amestrian language who are not from the Beta-Matrix, so, Morpheus for example.

For thought, it's all in italics.

Right, about this Amestrian language that you see later, this was made by my sister a couple of years ago, and I picked it up for recycling. She's got the credit; I just have the permission. I know it looks all long and confusing (and random) but honestly, it has set rules. Hopefully later on we may develop a better version that's more short hand. Now, when will I have the time for that? Lol.

Anyway, this is chapter 2.

Ophelia Davis

He shot up from his bed, gasping for breath, his blanket wrapped around his neck and body, as if being attacked. In his confusion, he ripped it from him, throwing it to the floor. He breathed quickly and deeply, trying to regain what lost control he once had; trying to regain some sort of composure. The composure he needed to face this reality, and not the one from before. He stared around him with sleep-dazed eyes, trying to make out hopeful outlines in the blackness that he faced.

From somewhere almost distant, light perpetrated a flowing outline, and as it gave sufficient light, he began to make out more outlines. Another bed, a chair, and someone sat close by. The outline seemed looming, large, almost terrifying, but as far as memory served, it was the comfort he needed. He looked up to the top of the outline, staring up at the red looming orbs, and smiling.

"Brother, are you ok? You looked like you were dreaming." The boy sighed, and scrabbling along the side, his hand almost knocked over a lamp, but he saved it and found the string to pull it on.

The light glowed and he found where the blanket had been thrown onto the floor, the other bed to his right, the chair that was positioned between the two beds, the curtained window that had supplied the moonlight and flowing outline, and the large figure that was sat close by on another chair. A suit of armour, the horns that adorned the suits body should have been intimidating to say the least, but they were familiar, which is why he smiled up at the suit of armour that called him Brother.

"Yeah, just a nightmare, I think. I'm fine."

"Good, you just seemed troubled; you were tossing about a lot."

"Yeah, no, I'm fine, really. Just something about voids, doors, eggs and machines and all that stuff, no I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" They seemed to be a menacing lilt to the young voice, a sort of restrained mirth. The glow of his eyes seemed to narrow, becoming dull in the lamp light.

"Yeah, I've just said so a bazillion times. Are you alright, Al?"

"It's you who should be worrying about yourself." Again, the mirth was restrained, as was this new hardness. It seemed almost daring and adult. The suit of armour stood up from his seat, looming down on his with a hint of smirk portraying from his soul.

"A-Al?" He backed himself up against the headboard. He'd lost the blanket; now he felt exposed to the dangers. "What's up? Seriously?"

Suddenly, an arm stretched out from the gap between the helmet and the armour itself. Its hand was large, the forearm cloaked in a deep green suit, the cuffs of the white shirt sticking out smartly. It forced out its arm further, knocking the helmet off. A foreign head replaced the helmet's use, and as the head's owner jumped forth, the armour fell back, limp and lifeless.

He could now see the man that had taken over the armour. He'd jumped onto the bed, clutching the boy's throat tightly in his grip. Through narrowed eyes he could see dark receding hair, his eyes were cloaked by sunglasses, and he wore a dark suit that gave a sheen of dark green in the lamplight.

The man's hand clutched tighter, his fingers joining from each side. The boy tried to scrabble at the man's hands, trying to prise them from his throat. He tried to struggle, but the man overpowered him, straggling his hips.

He shot up from his bed, screaming, the blanket tangled around his neck. He ripped it off, switching on the bedside lamp.

He huffed, his sheets soaked in sweat, and he looked up, finding Al staring down at him in alarm.

"Brother, are you alright?'

"Y-Yeah…"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm going to back to sleep." He pulled the blanket pieces from off the floor, and clapping his hands he reunited the pieces. Pulling it over him, he switched off the light. But he couldn't get back to sleep, how could he? That man would come back.

-/\*_;)(-

They all stood around Tank, staring at him in wonder, Morpheus stood beside Tank, patient in the hearing of an explanation.

It seemed hard to fathom, somehow it didn't make sense, or they didn't want it to. A new, or rather other Matrix meant more and new things, new technologies, way of life, language, but also new threats, and promises of more despair; more so than victories. Yes, it was a hard logic to fathom, that something different and more could possibly exist along side them, like an alien world existing as it were Mars and Earth twisting in space together side by side. A planet that they existed on and knew contained life now staring upon a once lifeless orb, wondering just how, why, when, what and who put life on its crimson ground, or made it seemed that it existed beneath the surface, without the notice of this more versatile and living planet that had been by its side all along.

Both Matrices, twisting, spinning, living, both unaware of each other's existence until now; it seemed almost monumental, but it was still hard to fathom. As everything was here, it was hard to fathom.

Neo rubbed his chin in a questioning manner, his mind still spinning. Another Matrix, to him, meant another One, and another threat. Someone would come and kick him from his podium, and the Agents would take this opportunity to take them both down for good. There was a saying for this, but he'd been here a while, and so had forgotten the notion.

He eyed Trinity curiously, for she too seemed confused, her eyes hardened and narrowed at the news. What could this mean for her; for them all? So why did Morpheus seem to understand the situation more than them? Should he not be confused, suspicious, and maybe even afraid? Neo knew him to be a great man, but even a man such as he was capable of fear, so where was it?

'So,' Neo began, 'you're saying that there's a Matrix just like this one, but different somehow?' A smirk quirked up on Morpheus' lips, something he didn't expect.

'I thought by the silence it would've already sunk in, but yes, a Matrix just like this one; the Beta-Matrix. Tank has already started to research its ways and its means of life. So far, it seems to have the same atmosphere as this one, so it must have human life. From our findings, the humans there seem to exist in a sophisticated society much like the one on Earth, but they are ruled by Military order, not like Earth where they are ruled by a Monarch or Democracy.'

'But there must be other similarities too, right?' Trinity asked.

'Of course, they are the same life forms, and they know language, they are intelligent, so we shouldn't treat them differently from ourselves, should we visit their Matrix.'

'Is that even possible yet?'

Tank's ears pricked to the question, 'I've been trying to establish a connection with the Beta-Matrix, but so far, the connection is unstable, it may take a while before we have a full connection and we can really learn from it.'

'So that's a big no for data probe?' Neo quipped.

'Correct, we cannot set foot in it yet. We'll have to wait until the program is found before we take the risk.'

'The Program?'

'Yes. From what the Oracle has told me, then whatever holds significant to them, will be opposing what holds significant to us, so this program will oppose Neo in many different aspects. He will be his exact opposite.'

'So what do we do, just let this kid come here and ruin everything?'

'He won't ruin anything Neo, he is essential.'

'Essential to what?' Neo burst out, 'My path? My destiny?'

'Exactly, and without him, we may not be able to succeed against the machines.'

'Without him? We don't need him! I thought I was the One! I don't need any help from some other kid, alright?'

'You are the One! There is only one One, but there is only so much time we can waste arguing about this! We must find the boy! If we don't, then Zion falls to the machines!'

Neo averted his gaze with the frustration, angered by the decision.

Tank continued to click on his computer, until he stopped, looking up to Morpheus.

'I've found it, the citizen database of the country.'

'Really? Don't stop then, I want it searched. See if you can do a description search on it, to filter out all the persons that could match our description.'

'So, to run through the description, light long hair, light eyes, short and smart?'

'Yes,'

'So are you calling me stupid?' Neo snarled, pointing at himself.

'No, we never said that.'

'You meant it. Someone opposite to me, someone smart, right?'

'Stop taking this personally and grow up.'

Morpheus went back to Tank, looking over his shoulder, apparently ignoring any further statement from Neo, so he stormed off, away from Trinity and the others, boiling with silent rage.

'We've pulled a few thousands on results on the database.' Tank replied, once the search was complete.

'That's a start,' Morpheus almost smiled, but contained himself, 'but try and narrow the search as much as possible, height requirements, hair length, occupations, even age if you must. It has to be something that makes them stand out as intelligent somehow. Just keep going.'

'This may take a few hours.' Tank sighed, 'but I'll do it.'

'Good,' Morpheus looked up, signalling to a small boy stood next to Trinity, he was thin with thin brown hair. 'Mouse, help him with the search.'

'Y-yes, sir.' He crept past him, taking up a seat at another monitor.

-/\*_;)(-

He sauntered across the path, wearing his red coat that dangled at the back of his knees. His brother, the suit of armour walked along side him, silence breached them both.

"Brother, did you finish that report on Xenotime that you had to make to the Colonel yet?"

"No, I was too busy being strangled by my bed last night, I didn't find the time."

"You know he's going to get mad."

"Yeah, but it won't change the fact that I didn't do it."

"Come on, Ed. What's bothering you all of a sudden? Usually you say you don't care to high hell what the Colonel thinks. You're not acting yourself."

"I'm just a little put out, that's all."

"About what?"

"Why all the questions all of a sudden?"

"I'm just worried."

"Well, quit it. There's worried, and then there's you. Just relax. I'm going to be in and out, no problems."

The two entered the headquarters, Edward trying to drag out the time from now and the time when he would enter the Colonel's office, and receive his punishment. The Colonel would probably spit blood, acting like he deserved a court-martial when it was nothing short of a smack on the hand.

He entered the Colonel's office, his brother Al had taken a seat in the break room, probably already reading a cheap book.

He faced the Colonel, who sat before him with laced fingers, his elbows propped on the desk in its ritual way. His dark narrow eyes stared back at him; he probably already sensed the inevitable. Ed could feel it too; hanging in the air in its residual way.

"I didn't receive your report, Fullmetal." His voice lingered, waiting for a response, but he didn't grant him one, instead fidgeting where he stood. "Why didn't I receive your report from your mission in Xenotime?"

"I didn't find the time…"

"You were there at least a few days, you could've have written at least something then. Or maybe it's just your priorities. After all, you could've written it as you went, adding to it everyday like a diary." He spoke mockingly.

"Do I look like a pussy to you?" Edward snarled with bared teeth.

"Do you want me to answer that question?" Roy smirked.

"No, just court-martial me, and let me go, I don't have time for you today."

"What are you in a hurry for, something better? I don't think so, Fullmetal. Now, you are going to sit down on that couch, and write that report. Do you understand?"

Ed slumped down in the couch, returning Roy's instructions with a look of scorn burning in his eyes.

"And what do I write with, or on?"

"Here's some paper, and a pen, smartass." Roy took out a jotting pad and a pen from his draw and threw it into Edward's lap. "Don't leave until it's done."

-/\*_;)(-

'That's it! Yes!' Tank cheered under his breath, elbowing the air downwards.

'What did you find?' Mouse asked, jumping out of his seat and lingering over Tank's shoulder.

'Get Morpheus, I think I found the kid. It may be a long shot, but it's a start.' He grinned.

Morpheus strolled up to Tank upon Mouse's shout, bending down to look over his shoulder.

'Did you find him?'

'Yeah, it's in a different language, like in a Latin alphabet, but I can get the gist of it. Well, I've been downloading the language and translating it into our own English, so this is what I got.'

'You got a picture?'

'Yup.' He clicked on the file, and the photo popped up. The boy had a cute sort of face, his eyes big and golden, and his hair stood out on his face as bangs at the front and tied back in a braid, shiny and blond. 'His name is Edward Elric. He doesn't have a registered IQ, but he's part of the State military as a State Alchemist.'

'Alchemist? What did you find out on that?'

'To them, it's a science to do with the transmuting of one thing to another on the basis of Equivalent Exchange. They use sketches called Transmutation circles to work it. Ok, I don't understand it all, but obviously this kid does, or the military wouldn't accept him. I've checked up some files, on the science and it looks difficult. Even you would stump up.'

'Anything else?'

'He's registered here as being 4"11, and he's 16 years old, and here's the kicker. He joined the military at the age of 12, the youngest to do so. I'd say he was a prodigy, wouldn't you?'

'Good, that's good, right, how's the connection from here to the Beta-Matrix?'

'Still a little patchy, but it's been a good few hours, I would say there shouldn't be much problem on the reception.'

'Good, I'm going to call him. Get a lock down on his location.' Tank typed away at his keyboard, finalising locations.

'I got him; he's sat in an office in the military headquarters, that's him there.' He turned a monitor towards Morpheus, and he could see him truly for the first time. Moving, writing left handed, giving daring looks towards the man sat at the desk.

'That must be a superior officer.'

'Oh, him? I thought I saw his file earlier. He's a Colonel in the military, and a State alchemist himself. Flame, they call him.'

'Flame?'

'Well, the military seem to have code names for their alchemists, probably for undercover reasons?'

'And yet here we are with all their information. What do they call Edward?'

'Fullmetal.'

'Can you get the number to the Colonel's phone?'

'Already have.'

'Read it out for me.' Morpheus brought out his cell phone, and typed in the number according to what Tank read out. He waited for the answer, watching at the same time through the monitor. He saw the Colonel stretch his arm out lazily for the phone, picking it up.

"Khoor? (Hello)"

'Edward Elric.'

"Huh?"

'Edward, now.' He watched the monitor, and the Colonel seemed to nod in some sort of understanding. From his cell phone he heard the off sound of foreign chatter, before the boy was stood by the desk with the phone in hand.

"Khoor?"

'I'm honoured to speak to you, Edward Elric.'

"Zekadiu gr brex pihade'? (What do you mean?)"

'You don't understand me, but we have an understanding, you and I.'

"Zekadiu duh brex vadeble'j? (What are you saying?) Khoor? (Hello?)"

Tank tugged on his sleeve, 'Give it up, Morpheus, he doesn't understand you.'

'It's a shame that we can't speak more fluently.'

"Zedliw! Gr l ne'rez brex? (Wait! Do I know you?) l'yih kihadug brex ivurep vrepihezekhuh eihiruh! (I've heard you from somewhere before!)"

'I must go, we will speak again soon, though.'

"Zedliw! Guhadep jexeb! (Wait! Dream guy!)"

'Good bye.'

"Gre'w jr! (Don't go!)"

But Morpheus hung up, leaving the boy clutching the phone from the monitor view.

'Sounded a little harsh, didn't you?'

'He couldn't understand me, no matter; can you get me a recording of the phone message? I want you to try and translate it for me.'

'Translate it?'

'Yes, like you did for the file page. If you can gather as much information on the language as possible, we can make it into a lesson on a training program. If we should go there, we need to be able to speak their language.'

'Right.' Tank sighed, clicking away at his keyboard once again. Morpheus left, leaving Tank alone to watch the boy struggling in blabbing confusion.

-/\*_;)(-

"Who was that?" Roy asked curiously with an arched eyebrow.

"Don't know, he sounded foreign."

"What did he say?"

"Not a clue; didn't understand a word he said." Edward frowned, putting the receiver down on the phone.

"Strange though, how did he get a hold of my office number?" He frowned, almost dismissively.

"No idea, anyway," He sat back down, taking up the pad and pen in his lap, and began scribbling down his report, starting from the first line from when he left off. "I've got to get this report done, right?"

"Are you sure it won't bother you? I mean, what did you mean by Dream Guy?"

"I-It's nothing," He answered, not taking his eyes off the page, "He just- it's nothing."

His pen continued to scribble across the page, forming words in their way. Roy frowned irritably. It was certainly a strange phone call; certainly hard to fathom.

A few hours later, the report lay finished next to him on the couch, the pen resting on the paper, keeping its place on the page with the lid. The Colonel took up the pad, and tore the report out, but Edward didn't look up, or flinch. Instead, silently, he snored gently, curled up with a cushion at his head. He lay on the couch, his legs dangling over the edge and hardly touching the ground.

He watched the boy curiously, sitting down where the pad had once been, eyeing him without suspicion, just rather, wonder. The boy hardly stirred from the extra weight, he just slept, his head facing the ceiling. Slowly, he raised a hand to him, his fingers hovering just centimetres above his head. He wasn't sure what to do. Would he notice? He found himself wondering, if they were to accidentally stroke him? Would he fly off the handle? He lowered them ever so carefully. They were hardly a hairs width away from his head.

Oh Ed, you are a curiosity. What would I do, if you were gone all of a sudden? It wouldn't be the military without you.

A fingertip brushed through a bang, just so gently, and he didn't stir. What else could he get away with?

His fingertips hovered lower, stroking down his cheek, meeting under his chin and tingling down his neck.

Suddenly, "Brother? Are you done?" The voice rang from its metallic shell, and his face twisted to it. Ed stirred just so, and he awoke suddenly, gasping. He coughed a little, but twisted behind him, to find Alphonse there, looking over him.

"Oh, yeah, I finished my report," he twisted back round to Roy, who sat there, his hand still hovering, before he withdrew it quickly, coughing. "Did you get it?"

"Yeah, it's on my desk. I'll check through it later, but yes, you're free to leave." He stood up, retaining his order, before Edward stood up from the couch, stretching, and turning to leave. Roy sat back at his desk, relaxed somewhat. Watching Edward leave his office, he saw the boy's head turn, to look back at him, but quickly turned it back, when he saw Roy watching from the corner of his eye.

I wonder; do you feel what I feel?

-/\*_;)(-

A corridor stretched out before him on both sides, doors lined its void-white walls. White doors they were, with silver coloured doorknobs, the same as before, but this time, they had the restrictions of an immovable corridor, unlike the lack of restraint that the void carried.

He peered at both sides carefully, before picking randomly at a direction to take. He took the right side, walking along the corridor, hoping for a door at the end that might lead to a stairwell to leave this building, but he couldn't find one. Doors lined the walls on both sides, but they weren't doors to apartments, or were they? He couldn't be sure, they weren't numbered after all.

"What's the matter?" That same voice, from before! The phone call! Last night! "Do you still doubt?"

Of course not! I just don't know the exit. I'm trying to get out of here. There are so many doors; I don't know which the right one is.

"Didn't you learn anything from me before? There is no mistake to be gained, just another answer."

Because the best answers, we learn on our own…He breathed, and the voice seemed to chuckle softly.

"Of course, now, stop here, just pick this one," Edward stopped straight where he was.

Which side?

"Any, it doesn't matter." He twisted around to the left side, and looked the door up and down. It was the same as all the others, nothing special about. It had the same coat of paint and silver doorknob as all the others, so why was he still afraid of opening it? "Are you scared?"

Huh?

"Are you afraid of what might be on the other side? Don't be. Open it, and find the answer." Almost shakily, he took a hold of the doorknob. He breathed, waiting for his heart to still, before he cautiously twisted it open, and looked down upon the sight with wonder.

The place was like a cave, but large, the walls were jagged with earth, and below him people were gathered. Torches lit the cave, low music bass thrummed through the walls, the people stomped their feet erratically, as if they were trying to make the ground beneath them quiver with their might.

He could feel the power they were trying to portray, their might, and their energy. Sweat glistened down their bodies, it rolled down their brows, and it dripped from their cord-like hair, as if all were drenched.

He watched in wonder upon this festival of sorts. His own people would've danced around a campfire, these people didn't need such a wonder, just music, and their own feet.

Suddenly, the walls quaked, but they stopped, staring at the walls. He looked up to the top of the cave, still a kilometre away from his door. Then a blast came through the wall, flecks of rubble dropped upon them, and they scattered like ants. Long winding arms, metal from how their surface reflected the cordial light below. Long, twisting, machine-like vessels came through. They were large, swarming down upon the ants below as if like fish in an ocean, all following a group in a beautifully shimmering swarm, all in together. But, one dispersed from its group, having spotted the light from behind the open door.

He saw it fly towards him, his eyes spread wide with panic. He tried to shut the door, but it was upon him. Its winding tentacles crashed through the wall at the door's side, a pincer on the end of one grabbed his throat, pinning him to the wall behind. Blood gushed, he flailed, panicking.

And then he heard footsteps coming down the hall.

They were smooth, obviously dressy by sound and nature. The man, who owned them, wore a deep green suit, owning his sunglasses, like a hound became attached to its bone.

"You seem to wonder," The man spoke for the first time since he saw him last, his voice smooth and charming, but hostile and daring, "why it is you, who witness the destruction of ants, should suddenly become involved in a fate that is none of your business, hm? It is because, child, you know more than you should, and so should be removed like the disease you are. Just by seeing this, and me, do you become too aware of an existence that should be, what is it now, secret?" Slowly, he took the sunglasses away from their position, and he could only stare upon the man's icy blue eyes: piercing in nature. "I am a program, here to dispel those who are aware of the Matrix's existence, as you are now. You, bluepill, shall meet your end here. But, tell me this…" he was silent, but his mouth opened, his voice foreign and familiar, "Brother? Are you done?" the metallic voice rung out smoothly.

The pincers crushed down harder, and he stirred, gasping awake suddenly. He coughed, as if still being choked by that pincer, but he saw Al watching over him,

"Oh, yeah, I've finished my report." He twisted back to see the Colonel sat next to him, his hand hovering just so, "Did you get it?" The Colonel coughed, and withdrew his hand,

"Yeah, it's on my desk. I'll check through it later, but yes, you're free to leave."

Were you the pincer in my dream? He got up off the couch, walking over to Al, and towards the exit of the office. Curiosity still seemed to have its hold on him, and he looked behind from his shoulder; from the corner of his eye, he saw the Colonel staring back from his seated position at his desk. His head whizzed back, facing the exit as he left.

That feeling, it's back again? I can't describe it. All he could picture now were those narrow eyes, staring back at him, as if…as if irresistibly. They chased away those cold blue eyes, and his heart began to warm up from the hearth of those black pools. A notion twisted in his stomach, like butterflies swarming and fluttering anxiously in his gut. Were you taking the pincer away?

He wasn't sure, but how could he? This new feeling, it certainly was hard to fathom.

Author's note: I'm almost half-way through my GCSEs, so to cheer myself up, I think I'll just have this up now. I enjoyed your reviews, and I would like to hear more from you. Anyway, thank you for your support so far, and I think the next chapter will come up once the GCSE exams are over and once the fourth chapter has been written. I like to stay ahead of you guys so that I'm not overly pressured to write a chapter. I feel better writing at my own pace, which is why I turn out better things in one of these instead of in a flippin' English language exam. Damn it, two hours ain't enough.

So thank you for those reviews so far, and keep reading, because I love to hear from you guys.

Ophelia Davis