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Lucia Di Lammermoor

Five Millenia Later

Prologue - Forever's End

Winchester, England

2204 A.D.

Long-ago charred ground crunched beneath protected feet, the sound of rusted and burnt wrought iron creaking on its barely intact hinges joining in the symphony of destroyed matter.

"This doesn't look like any facility I've ever been to."

One of two partners scouting the premises addressed his companion over the roar of fusion engines hovering nearby.

The older of the two looked over his shoulder, the Mayan gold of tainted atmosphere reflecting sharply off his visor. "It's an old one, supposedly built under an orphanage of some kind."

His partner sighed, stepping along ground that looked as though it had once been a garden of some sort – flowers, maybe, or vegetables. A large, petrified tree passed his line of sight, it's branches no longer producing protective shade for the long dead plant-life that once sought shelter under its foliage.

They came upon a small tower of cement and rock that somehow still managed to support its own weight. A plaque still hung from the pillar, its gold metal oxidized and black from intense heat.

Wammy's House.

"You sure this is the right place?"

"Shut it, Private. This is the location on the record, and that's all I know."

The younger behind him obeyed, following his commanding officer through the entrance way and towards marble steps. Looking around, he'd venture a guess that this place took a direct hit. No signs of life littered the ground where grass should have been – only crystallized dirt that resembled cloudy glass. The light of the setting sun came through bad air that still settled several miles upward and around the location in blotted rays of burnt orange. The building ahead, their destination, was just barely intact. Scorch marks littered the external stone sides, and the roof was entirely gone, replaced with a makeshift covering of canvas.

But the Private could still make out the features of what one would expect to find in a Nineteenth Century cathedral. The destroyed yard surrounded with iron fencing, half of a stone cross still erected high on the roof, the remains of a bell-tower that no longer held its iron instrument. Definitely had to have been a church at one time.

They stopped at the first step, his Sergeant flashing a bright light into the darkness through an open doorway. Debris covered a once pristine hardwood floor, previously white-washed walls covered in grey soot.

"Seismic readings indicate there should be an entrance to the underground–"

"I found it," the older responded, stepping forward and pointing his light down through a large hole in the floor. "Blast doors at the basement level. Let's get down there." His first foot in resulted in complaint from the weakened floor, but it held in the presence of long-lost human weight. The two worked quickly, setting up a portable ladder on one tattered edge of the destroyed flooring.

Dust swirled around their feet as they hit the bottom level, floating up to glimmer in the faint rays of light that found their way this deep into the facility. The younger was first to approach, swiping his hand across an archaic keypad covered in age.

"What's the code?"

His commander held up a small, lit data pad in front of his visor. "Two, zero, zero, four, one, one, zero, five."

"Still operational." The other responded in awe as small beeps indicated the acceptance of the keyed in numbers. With the last number punched in, a prolonged beep gave way to decompression of the doors, the seal dissipating in a loud hiss. A moment later, the sound of two pistols being readied and aimed at the parting doors tuned in.

Light spilled from the new opening, engulfing both men in a blinding blanket of bright white.

"Well fuck me sideways!" The Sergeant barked, lowering his weapon and stepping inside.

Several large cases were hoisted into the twilight of evening, their thick titanium not having seen anything but artificial light for decades. Men ran back and forth, transporting them from the dead ground of their long-time home to an awaiting aircraft.

Two of them sat in the forefront of the collection being lined into the ship's cargo bay, resting side-by-side in death just as they had in life. The rumble of engines increased as the ship made its vertical ascent, pivoted, and then began its journey into the sky; its precious freight experiencing their first exploration into space several decades too late.

Their arrival to a much larger cruiser marked more movement, more warm hands imprinting oily designs on their cold metal casings. They were being secured in place inside a holding room, their caretakers preparing them for an extended journey to yet another new destination.

Earth lay behind them now, quickly shrinking away in the window just above the pair. A trip that would have taken months in their lifetime now took only a few days. The two sat with infinite patience within their protective shells, the sounds and vibrations of the ship's voyage completely lost on them.

Soon, they would be accosted again. Removed from their containers, more hands would transplant them from their cold storage to an updated version, label them, and put them with the others. There, they would find their future uncertain, if they had one at all.

But for now, they remained in oblivion. Existing in their pause of nothingness, neither were aware of the blue light that danced along the reflective surface of their alloy casing. Neither took part in the conversations going on around them among the ship's crew. Neither cared that it was cold in their cells, or that it was dinner time. They didn't know the time or the date, why it was that invaders had taken them from their home, or that their home had even been destroyed.

They only knew the finality of death, that black curtain at show's end that enveloped them in darkness forever.

End forever.