Title: The Mechanical Masterpiece
Author: Bishiehuggler – Beta'd by Psycho Rooster
Genre: Sci-fi
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Alternate Universe, Shounen-ai (NaruSasu, KakaIru), Changed names
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of the characters in this story. I do, however, own the plot.
Summary: Two scientists working at Winter Cryogenics Inc. stumble across a rare find: a large tomb full of objects their science is incapable of proving. They also find the seriously marred body of a small blond teenager. Deciding the only way to save his life and get to the bottom of this curious mystery is to turn him into a cyborg and ask him straight out. Problem is, he speaks a language no one understands, which has died out long ago.
Author's Notes: This is probably the most random story I've ever written. I never really liked Science Fiction, but I've read Battle Angel Alita and Feed, which started an obsessive plot bunny because there are only a few sci-fi fics in this section. I hope readers will be open minded! Please leave a review!
Note: I have changed names around, but have tried to make it so the characters are easy to identify. This is only temporary! Please do not kill me because the name does not suit the character, I'm really bad when it comes to naming things. X.x;
Characters Introduced: Iruka Umino as Ian Storm, Kakashi Hatake as Zak Fields

Prologue: The Copper Scent of Blood

"Wow, it really stinks down here!" A silver-haired man in a lab coat twisted his head with interest, taking in every angle of the drab corridor.

"Only you can act so childishly at a time like this, Zak. We have no idea what we're getting into." Ian Storm lightly smacked his co-worker on the shoulder for attention. His lips were pressed into a grim line from sheer discomfort.

They were pointedly told by superiors and peers that this place was too dangerous to explore. He was convinced that there was some sort of disease- carrying mould buried between the ancient brown bricks that had braced this hall for an untold amount of years.

The musty smell of dead air was stifling, and Ian had never seen this sort of environment from any pictures or his textbooks. Well, why would he? He, along with Zak, were only a medical cryogenists, a specially trained type of a doctor that worked on treating and studying diseased beings that once walked the Earth, some as far back as before humans had space travel.

Zak Fields trained an upturned eye to his partner, who was rubbing the bridge of his nose, a habitual action for when the man wasn't feeling so confident. "Actually, I think it's a tomb. I've been reading that the Societies of Old buried their royalty in places like these!"

Ian went from rubbing his nose to scratching it, leaving a prominent red welt on his tanned skin. The Societies of Old were obliterated with the Degeneration of Earth thousands of years ago. That guy loves anything morbid. "Dammit, let's just walk down there, satisfy your curiosity and leave." He set his pace to a brisk walk, leaving the other to start jogging behind him.

"Hey, wait!" The odd man's feet made an irregular clip-clop pattern on the cobbled stone floor. "It would be wise to explore this place. We don't know what's down here."

Ian grunted in irritation that the man was right. There was no reason to run headlong into danger. "But then why are we here in the first place?"

"To explore and have fun!" Zak had no idea why, but decided to answer with something, just to fill the silence. And to bother the man, which he found very amusing. He'd been doing it for years, ever since they attended medical school together. He would never show up to the lecture, then appear at Ian's dorm three hours later for the assignments. He would always give a pathetic excuse, which was painful (Ian punched hard), but it was worth it when he saw the brown-haired man slowly turn red and grind his teeth in an exaggerated fashion.

"What fun?!"

"Oh, c'mon, you lazy fish. You need to loosen up and do something daring for a change!" Zak's tone was smug.

"Who're calling lazy?!" A loud smack echoed through the corridor.

Ian flexed his hand and lessened his pace, shining the yellow beam from his flashlight upwards. Protruding out of the walls were marble support columns, on top of which were statues carved of the same material.

They were all in the semblance of a well-endowed woman, her hands folded and head bowed in prayer. The illumination was too weak to make out details of her face, but Ian could've sworn he had seen her somewhere before. He mentioned his thoughts to Zak.

"Yeah, I guess. I think I might've read about her in one of my novels." There was a lecherous twinkling in his half-lidded eye.

His porn books. Why am I stuck down in a hallway, alone, with a pervert that's suspected to have Attention Deficit Disorder? Ian mentally snarled. We're not supposed to be here. Stupid Zak falling through the stupid floor of the stupid new Research Wing addition four hours ago. I could've been home with a pot of coffee right now!

It was true, too. This chain of events was triggered by Zak aimlessly wandering around the research wing, making the floor gave way. Tons of dirt, dust and building materials made a pile leading to the surface about ten feet high. Luckily, no one was injured. A few frantic coworkers messaged the construction company about it, but only received the response that it was not their problem and any pre-construction investigation and research was done by the owners.

None could understand why the dirt under the foundation of the building was hollow, although there was a sneaking suspicion that the tomb was dug so deep and so long ago that no one noticed its existence beforehand. It was natural to have something this old to sink further into the ground. The Earth's crust was formed in layers, the older ones buried by the new ones as a consequence of erosion.

Even though the entire scenario full of variables Ian knew one thing for certain. It was all the other man's fault. "You're an idiot, you know that?"

Oblivious to his friend's inner ranting, Zak stopped in a huff at the barb. "Hey, if I were an idiot, I wouldn't be living in a penthouse because of this high-paying job...What're you doing?"

All thoughts of bickering forgotten, the lazy scientist watched the other man press his hand straight out into the blackness and make circular motions, feeling a solid object. Rough and large, it echoed the sound of sandpaper through the hall when he rubbed it.

Zak grabbed the flashlight and stepped backwards, the beam slowly widening to encompass Ian's form, his comrade's brown hair pulled into a tight ponytail and his broad back decked in a neat white lab coat. He moved the rays slowly over gargantuan, unpolished, wooded double doors, the entire things beginning at the floor and ending at the ceiling. A reddish-brown stain was embedded into the wood in a sloppy spiral formation, with strange markings adorning the edges of it.

Ian nicked the surface of the coil with in his thumb. "This is damn old blood." his voice quivered in his throat. Whatever creature was beyond the door must have been dangerous.

But that was then and this is now, right? There's a good chance it's already dead. Then why hasn't the blood turn to dust yet? The man rubbed his nose one last time. Well...We've come this far. I might as well try... He heaved his shoulder at the door. It bucked and creaked but didn't budge.

"I think you're supposed to pull on one of the handles." The silver- haired man pointed to the rusted loops of iron bolted to each door, laughing to himself like he had cracked a good party joke. Ian's brow twitched with barely concealed fury as he pulled on the left ring. The door barely moved an inch when it caught. A heavy jingling could be heard from the other side.

"Do you think it's locked?"

"From the inside? You think someone holed themselves up to die?"

"What's it matter? We can't get in! We should just go back and wait for Mr. Winter to come back with a real crew of archaeologists to explore here!" Ian let out a fake chuckle and spun on his heel.

"But if Boss finds out we went down there-against his orders-and didn't bring anything good back, he'll be pretty angry." Zak flipped the flashlight under his chin, the light casting eerie shadows over the surgeon's mask permanently strapped over his mouth and nose and highlighting the shine in his silvery grey hair. "Maybe we'll lose our jobs!"

His eyes crinkled happily as he saw the uncertainty in the brunette's eyes. Well paying job or certain death? It was a pretty hard decision these days. In this world money truly did make the world go 'round. Also, his job was praised and admired. Not many could understand or relate to those cryogenically frozen. It required long years in a highly revered school studying psychology, math, chemistry, biology and medicine. Those without a job were labelled slackers and losers and were shunned in the harshest way. Besides, Boss Winter was damn scary when he was mad.

It was a wonder why Zak hadn't been killed by the guy yet. Sure, he was a genius, but he was the laziest ass he had ever known. Couple that with poor organizational skills and a tendency to be late by at least two hours, and you pretty much had a local bum.

Boss Winter had even less tolerance for the homeless and needy than he did for everyone else. Ian figured it was because he had an extremely difficult life, and was always in a compromising situation, but somehow managed to keep from being pulled under. It's what made Winter one of the solar system's most respected business executives.

"But we still can't get in."

"I'm sure this place is so old that all we need to do is exert some more force. The lock will just snap right off."

We still shouldn't go in there! When someone draws on a door with blood, they obviously want to warn you!

Said man grabbed the right handle. "On three, we'll pull as hard as we can, 'kay?" Ian nodded. "One...Two..."

"Three!" They cried in unison and threw themselves back as hard as possible. The lock behind the door jingled again, but this time it was a sweet and airy sound that belonged in a less dismal setting. Slowly, a sky blue glint engulfed the spiral, making the men's eyes widen. It began to spin, and each time it stopped, the bell rang out.

"The spiral is the lock." The silver-haired cryogenist said with conviction. "This is some kind of safe."

Ian was still gawking at the phenomenon. "This is scientifically impossible, right?"

"Yep."

"Just checking."

Both jumped back as the bell became sonorous and deep, its noise crashing off the walls in waves. The doors swung in, and they instantly recognized the same spiral and markings written in caked blood on the far wall of the chamber. Looking left and right, there was also a ring and what looked like a ping-pong paddle hastily drawn in the same way.

Low shelves lined the walls with rows upon rows of weapons, each as shiny and sharp as they had been when they were first placed there. Ian's eyes wandered slowly over each and every one, and concluded he couldn't identify any from all the books or articles he had ever read.

The styles were very unique, each knife or blade looked like it was folded and shaped with the utmost skill. There were also a pyramid of scrolls in one of the corners, all in the same foreign language.

Ian walked over to the empty, immaculately clean table situated in the middle of the floor. It was the creepiest object there, the feeling of cavernous emptiness radiated from the spot. It made the hair on his neck stand on end and his heart knock hard enough in his chest to shatter his ribs...

"Yo!" Zak cried, either not noticing the feeling, or just ignoring it. He was studying the blood-drawn circle suspiciously. "There's sparkly thread connected to this thing."

Ian glanced in the general direction of where Zak was, giving the man a look that said 'Are you insane?' Looking closer, he could see wisps of shining blue string behind Zak pulled taught by something off to his left.

Turning to the far wall, he noticed the ping-pong paddle was in the same state. He watched, curious, as the other man kept his nose close to the threads and slowly walked up to the table. "They stop right here."

"Doesn't it look like they're tied around something?" Ian asked, making no move to investigate and rubbed the bridge of his nose cautiously. The air was buzzing with yellow excitement. It bounced off the walls and electrocuted him with fear and intrigue and the unconstrained, hyperactive energy that a nervous child would have when pulling off the perfect prank.

It only took Zak one glance to tell him the other scientist was just as affected by the kinetic force as he was. He was taking it worse, though. his fingers twitching nervously, on guard for whatever was behind this abnormality.

He tilted his head to the left wall. He knew it wouldn't hurt them and the aura was so familiar. A long lost detail that fell into a black hole with memories he had buried long ago.

"Well, no use standing around, then!" He chirped and grabbed a fistful of strands close to him. The charged air immediately stilled, almost in a threatening manner, and a series of cracks ricocheted off the walls as the wisps broke.

The two men snapped their eyes downwards, shocked at seeing a body materialize from nowhere. It must have been hidden by the power of that thread.

"Good God." Ian gasped, looking from the bony kid to the table to the floor. The amount of blood that appeared in his line of sight made bile push on his voice box. It was disgusting, seeing that much of the crimson fluid just there, dripping off the table that was clean ten seconds ago.

Looking at the wounds the boy had, this flood wasn't surprising. Only his right arm was intact, its counterpart and his right leg being torn from the torso. The left leg ended in a stump below the knee. Chunks of flesh were also missing from his side and the middle of his chest, as if he were mauled by a merciless animal that thought he was its chew toy.

For some reason unknown to him, the pony-tailed cryogenist hefted the mangled lump of breathing flesh into his arms, cradling it like a baby. He noted that the boy was only a teenager, maybe sixteen or seventeen. His tangled hair gleamed like spun gold even under matted crimson. Three whisker marks resembled laugh lines, giving Ian the impression of a canine. He stared at the scruffy lashes and his mind compulsively decided that the broken boy's eyes would be blue and shining with self-confidence.

"Hey, where're you off to?" Zak drawled lazily to his panicked friend's retreating form. I feel the same way. This kid is a comrade of ours...I can feel it in my bones. He followed at a more leisurely pace behind the other, making a casual grab for the flashlight dropped in the confusion. He left the door open, intent on showing the rest of the crew at Winter Cryogenics Incorporated the room tomorrow.

Climbing gracefully up the rope and hefting himself over the side of the hole he created when he plummeted into the tomb, Zak wondered what could be done for the boy who's blood was being lost at an alarming rate. Surely Ian won't try to fix him up by himself. He thought, but on inspection of the blood trail leading to the nearest Operating Room, he decided that the other man was quite foolish and predictable. He caught the man hooking up a heart machine to the boy.

"The kid'll die if we cart him to the hospital, right?"

Ian didn't gratify Zak with a response.

The man sighed and pushed over a cart with surgery equipment. "Alright, I'll wash my hands. You find out if there are any internal wounds we need to deal with."

Ian gave a tired smile, but gratitude shone in his eyes. Zak may be weird, perverted and act like a moron on occasion, but the man was an extremely skilled doctor when he got around to it.