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The time has come to put together a large army. We need everyone online for this battle, we cannot fail. Please, tell everyone and begin recruiting troops. The biggest battle in the history of Battlecity awaits us…

“Anything yet?” The distorted voice of Commons, Lynk’s team mate crackled through his speakers. The three of them were on patrol, southbound, the rumble of their powerful engines fell upon deaf ears as they cruised past the ruins of Cordoba. Bahia Blanca was enjoying a time of unrivaled supremacy, there were few who would stand against them at this time, though the day did draw ever closer when a challenge would be made. And that was the reason for the patrols. It was a policy instated on Genghis’ order that patrols be conducted routinely, one could never be too careful in times such as these. Tonight Lynk, Commons and ScubaSteve were the ‘lucky’ ones on patrol. The results were without fail, always the same.

“Nothing.” Lynk said dryly. With one gloved hand he eased the crick in the back of his neck, they had been driving for hours and still had seen nothing more exciting than the flicked up dust in their rear-view mirrors. Buenos Aires and Cordoba had both been leveled by the power of the Orb in recent times, times that Lynk still looked back on rather fondly.

“Me too.” So had ScubaSteve, “How ‘bout you Lynk?”

Lynk’s brow furrowed slightly and he swallowed. Patrol was their assignment, and it really should be done. There was no telling when the next wave of Huambo commandos would crash against their city’s walls. They had to be prepared.

“Y’know what guys, I’m going to stay out a bit longer. You never know.”

There was a brief moment of radio silence before his teammates’ voices chimed in unison,

“Suit yourself buddy.”

Again, a cold smile touched his lips as he watched the two tanks turn in synchronization, their dust trails flying out behind them as they headed home.

To be honest with himself, it was these times that Lynk enjoyed the most. The ever present roar of his tank seemed to soothe his soul, and out here, away from the usual battle grounds, there were no worries. No crackle across the communications, no orders from the mayor, no sporadic rumble of explosions in the distance. No, out here all was quiet, serene. And that was how Lynk liked it.

And suddenly it was shattered. Lynk’s serenity pierced by an almighty roar. Almighty, but weakened somehow. Acting on instinct, the Private slammed his brakes, sending the tank into a controlled skid, dust flying about its hardened exterior. Finally it came to a stop, and there was quiet once more, save for the low rumble of the now idle engine.

Lynk said nothing as he sat alone in his tank, a look of confused fear on his face. Never in all his time here had he experienced anything like that before. Not even the death-throws of fallen comrades had chilled his blood like this. This was different, bigger somehow. He waited for a few moments, before the eerily muffled cry touched his sensitive ears once again. Lynk frowned.

Whatever that was, it must have been loud. That sound was not coming through his com-speakers. No. It was coming from outside, from the land itself. And it was loud enough to hear through his tank hull, and his helmet. Turning in his seat, Lynk strained to get a better look at the terrain through the canopy of his tank.

Nothing.

Another loud, low and sad cry of pain echoed through the surrounding barren wasteland.

Lynk swore to himself before throwing his tank back into first gear and swinging it around. Whatever that was, he was going to find it. He was a Commando of Bahia Blanca, and it was his sworn duty to protect the city. A shaky exhale escaped the young Private as he slowly crawled his tank across the terrain, his eyes ever watchful for the slightest irregularity.

And there it was, just west of his position, wherever that may be, was a rocky outcrop unlike any other he had ever bared witness to. As though hewn by the most destructive of blades, a large jagged opening in the outcrop stood before him; the dimmest of red glows shining from its recesses.

As though confirming his discovery, Lynk found himself treated to yet another of the loud chilling cries. He winced.

“Like a big dying cat…” Lynk muttered to himself, maintaining radio silence all the while. His eyes, once upon the iridescent ‘doorway’ found themselves transfixed. He could not look away. Slowly his tank lurched forward once more, toward the doorway. And, not without some hesitation, Private Lynk of Bahia Blanca crossed the threshold, to the cavernous depths below.

The glowing red of the cavern neither diminished nor grew as Lynk slowly continued his descent into the cave. He could feel the usual dusty solidarity of the surface terrain give way to the soft damp that was the cavern floor. And then, without warning, Lynk found himself sitting in his tank, alone and breathless.

For Lynk had parked his tank on a small ridge, with a single slope leading down to the unthinkable construction which he now beheld. Below the Commando, stretching for as far as his combat trained eyes could see, was a maze. A maze of fire and darkness. Huge walls stood erect, dwarfed in their singularity by the sheer size of the cavernous maze of which they were a part. Lynk threw his gaze to the furthest corner of the maze that he could discern, as yet another roar bellowed forth from the captive within, its force strong enough to shake the very walls of the cavern. There was a soft hiss as Lynk depressurized his tank canopy and leaped from his seat, his boots marking the soft ground upon which he now stood.

It was enormous. The young Private found himself struggling to comprehend the size of the maze before him. But it was more than the size that found Lynk battling to secure his wits, it was also what this could mean. What was the beast within? Who would construct such a place? And for what purpose?

Suddenly a booming voice echoed through the cavern, the sheer force of the words shook the cavern with far greater ferocity than the previous cries ever could. This was a dark voice, a voice of terrible hate and power. Lynk found himself paralyzed with fear. He was rooted to the spot as he felt the cavern shake about him.

“You pathetic fools.” It boomed, the words barely discernable as it was mostly a terrible roar. “You nearly ruined it all. You were told Its power would grow with time. Double the defenses, It must not escape! We need It alive until the 27th eve of January. If It rends the walls again, all will fail. And you will all pay, with your lives. I am watching.”

And then it was over, and an eerie silence fell over the maze like a blanket. Lynk let a shaky exhale escape him. That was what the entrance was… A tear. A tear that was going to close.

Taking one last look around the cavern, around the maze, Lynk leapt back into his tank. Ignoring the usual shake of the tank as he reversed it back up the dimly lit slope Lynk could make out the dim light from the world above. But it was diminishing. Slowly, but surely, the entrance, the tear in the prison, was closing. As his tank withdrew, he could see the very fabric of reality sealing the gap. But it was slow. There would be time, by his reckoning, to bring others.

And so Lynk drove, like a man possessed, back to Bahia Blanca. If there was one person who might make sense of this, it would be his Mayor. It would be Genghis, of Bahia Blanca.

Lynk brought his tank to a skidding stop as he passed through the massive doors of the Bahia Blanca City Centre, his boots thudding along the floor but moments after his tank passed across the No Parking Zone. Such was his haste that the Private could barely stop himself as he rounded on the Mayor’s Chambers. He was glad for the current lull in attacks on Bahia Blanca. Any other time, and the Mayor would have been in his tank. Lynk pounded on the large oak double doors with one gloved fist, doing everything he could to stave off the panic that threatened to overcome him.

“Enter.”

Lynk wasted no time, throwing open the doors and marching toward his Mayor and mentor, Genghis. Lynk had been in the Mayor’s Chambers before, the usual sterile white floors, walls and ceilings of the rest of the City Centre were replaced with a thick plush carpet, walls lined with full bookcases and a ceiling of intricate golden patterns. The opposite end of the room extended out into a large balcony that overlooked the city below. Standing with both hands against the iron railing of the balcony, was Genghis. His weathered features masked by the ever-present shadow that appeared to engulf the world at present.

“Sir. Genghis. I have news, I… I don’t know what to make of it, but I think this is big.”

Slowly, purposefully, the Veteran Mayor turned from his city to face the youngest member of his squad. His eyes, tired but cold, locked with Lynk’s own, and instantly read the fear and intensity they possessed.

“Stand with me. Tell me everything you saw. Was it Huambo?” He said, his voice a low drawl, as though scarred from years of exertion. Genghis cast his gaze to the southwest, as he had seemingly countless times before.

“No Sir. I fear… It may be far worse than anything we have dealt with to date.”

Genghis’ expression was intense and searching as he moved his eyes from the wastelands to the south, to that of the marked features of Lynk.

And so the young Private began his tale and relayed what he had seen to his legendary mentor, omitting no detail, no matter how insignificant. Once he was done, Lynk took a step toward the balcony and looked toward the south, his face drained of colour. He said nothing, allowing Genghis time to digest his story.

“This, is truly terrible news young Lynk.” He said at length, his blue-grey eyes wincing with this new burden now placed upon him. “But, not without its glimmers of hope.”

Lynk turned to face his mentor, his lips sealed, his eyes questioning.

“You see. I believe, and this is just a hunch, but a strong one.” He did not take his eyes from Lynk, nodding as he continued, his hand gesturing ever so slightly, “But, I believe, that you may have found the holding place of Cerberus, the Guardian of the Underworld!”

A doubtful crease appeared across Lynk’s forehead and he chuffed in spite of himself,

“But Cerberus is dead. I mean… He was killed. They- We… He was killed.”

“Or so some thought.” Genghis’ sagely words caused Lynk to resume his silence. There was no hint of humour in his tone, no touch of smile at his lips. The veteran was deadly serious. “The events of that fateful day were many and confusing. There was so much happening, it would have been impossible to say with any certainty what exactly happened.” The Veteran Duke placed his rough hands on the balcony railing and followed Lynk’s gaze to the south, where all was deceptively peaceful.

“From what you have told me, it seems as though Cerberus is as strong as the legends tell. We were fools to think that we, as mortals, had killed him.” The Duke’s face was marked with a deep emotion that was not yet anger, “It was the arrogance of the majority that spread that tale Lynk. Do not be so quick to believe all that you hear.” Genghis spoke cautiously, his thoughts still forming. Lynk said nothing as his mentor’s mind worked.

“I have never believed we possessed power enough to slay the Great Guardian of the Underworld.” He shifted his eyes to Lynk’s own, “But rather, that on that day, the combined efforts of those who fought weakened Cerberus to the point that he was able to be banished.” Concentration marked Genghis’ already weathered features.

“To where, I do not know. And in what state, I have no clue. But quite possibly, wherever the Great Guardian ended up, he was weakened. And unfortunately for us, it seems as though someone found him. Someone, with enough power to imprison the Beast, in a tomb of Fire, Darkness and Peril.” Genghis shifted his eyes to Lynk once more, and raised an eyebrow. Lynk needed little prompting from his Mayor.

“Equiliser.” It was not a question.

“The very same.” Genghis said with a sigh. “But hope is not lost.” A weathered and cracked smile began to creep across his features, “For Cerberus is alive. And his spirit is still strong. Perhaps in his weakened state, the Dark Lord was able to keep him subdued with relative ease. But now,” Genghis’ smile was dark, but reverent, “The Old One grows strong once more, and new measures must be taken to ensure his imprisonment. This is good, there is still fight in Cerberus yet. And there is one more weight that tips the balance in our favour.”

Lynk shrugged his shoulders ever so slightly.

“What?”

“I do not believe the Dark Lord to be aware of your discovery. Were he, well… You would have been dead before you left the cavern.”

Genghis slammed his fists down on the balcony as he pushed himself away from it, his large boots carrying him purposefully towards his Desktop Communicator. He did not look at Lynk as his spoke, his hand resting on the handset, still yet to pick it up.

“You have done well this day Private. Perhaps, saved us all. But there is much to do. Much to plan. Yes…” Genghis smiled darkly. “I will summon the Event Sparrow. Her song carries far, and she has always been there to fight on the side of Good. She will send word to the other cities. It is time to unite, at least for now. It is time to rally to this cause, or face the consequences of holding our petty grudges.” At last he did cast his gaze upon Lynk. His look was fierce, as though the embers of his soul fire had been rekindled.

“We must prepare, we will need a great army, the likes of which has never graced our world before this time. We have to be ready.”

“But we don’t have time! The cavern was closing as I left, we have to get there now!” Lynk’s eyes bored into those of his mentor, with near frenzied intensity.

“Patience young Lynk.” Genghis said sternly, ever the guide and teacher. “The entrance you found this day was a rip made by Cerberus in an effort to escape. You said so yourself. It would have been long sealed by his captors. All its evidence erased.” He studied his protégé’s youthful but hardened face carefully. Lynk gave a resigned sigh and nodded in silence.

“Our best course of action is wait; and gather our forces. We must be ready by the 27th eve of January.” A crease etched its way across Genghis’ forehead as he frowned in concentration, “I do not know what the Dark One has planned, but his presence was reported in Utrecht some months ago. It has to be related to what you have seen today.” He cast his eyes down to his Desktop Communicator once again. “It just has to be…” He muttered.

“Time is short.” He said with renewed strength, “Gather your Team Mates.” There was a familiar glint in the Veteran Duke’s eyes.