-1Solitude In Blackness
The two soldiers stood on the aircraft carrier's spray-swept deck as it rolled gently with the waves. Though they were on duty they could afford to be lax. After all, it wasn't as if what they were guarding could go anywhere… four semi-mangled heaps of metal that had once been incredibly dangerous alien beings. "We'll be reaching the drop zone soon," one said to the other. "That's good to hear," the other replied. "I can't wait to get rid of these… Decepticons, was it? They wiped out half my squad before the rest took them down, so it'll be a pleasure to dump their corpses overboard." Walking to the side, he approached one of them, a large one with silver armor that didn't look quite as badly damaged as the rest. "This one, especially." It lay sprawled on its back, its broad chest a charred, melted ruin that still smoldered with impossible heat. Only one of those powerful arms remained, lying on the deck with claws slightly curled. The battle that had taken its life had also taken one of its legs, but the prodigious size of what remained testified to the sheer power the alien being had surely possessed during life. The head was turned to one side, eyes closed, jaw slack in death, baring fearsome fangs, and the expression frozen on its face spoke of a terrible agony. This being had suffered horribly before dying. "I hear tell he was their leader. They called him Megatron." The soldier grinned abruptly. "Ugly bastard, isn't he?" The last few words were punctuated by a contemptuous kick aimed straight at the lifeless face.
What happened next terrified them both, for it was then that the object of their attentions demonstrated that it still lived by groaning loudly and opening dim red eyes. Fear filled them as it… no, he… focused on the two of them and glared silent rage. Claws twitched slightly, the remaining leg shifted a bit as the fearsome form sprawled before them struggled to rise. The truth was plain to them from the expression on his face… He hadn't died in agony. No, he lived, and was still in agony. "…You can't move, can you?" The soldier who had administered the fateful kick spoke again, voicing the realization that had come to both of them as their fear died. The look of pure hatred was somewhat chilling, but they knew they were safe since their foe was immobilized. The broken body relaxed, causing both of them to realize just how weak his hold on life was. He was barely alive as it was, and it looked like he wouldn't be for much longer.
The signal came. They'd reached the drop zone. Transport helicopters let down their chains for soldiers on deck to attach to their cargo. These chains were wrapped round the lifeless Decepticons, hooks catching securely to hoist them into the air long enough for them to be dumped over the side and disappear below the waves. Through chance or cruelty, Megatron was left for last, and he watched his comrades be dropped into the sea one by one. The two soldiers who had witnessed his awakening were the ones to fasten the chains around him. "Like I said," the one that had delivered the kick said as they worked, "It'll be a pleasure to dump this one." As the helicopters began to raise him up, a new emotion showed in those hellfire eyes. Fear. "Wait… I still… function…" Weak as it was, his murmured plea was heard. The same soldier as before gave a sneer. "Want to bet?" The chains gave way as they were supposed to and their cargo dropped.
Salt stung Megatron's wounds for a moment, until the cold numbed them. Plunging beneath the waves, helpless to stop himself, far too weak to even transform, much less try to fly, he clung to life with a level of desperation he had long thought himself incapable of feeling. The fall seemed to stretch into forever. Clutching at his ruined chest, emitting a gurgled groan that sent bubbles spiraling toward the rapidly receding surface, he could still almost feel the All Spark's power ripping through him. Yes, that had been the power he had craved for so long, but it had simply been too strong for him. I thought I could harness that power, he thought dazedly. I thought I was strong enough… but I wasn't. After everything I did to obtain that power, I couldn't control it. An alien emotion took hold inside his dying mind… Now, for the first time since it all began, Megatron felt regret. He'd thrown away so much… A home, a life, friends, family… And for what? All he had gained was a slow death on an alien world; a cold, dark tomb where he would lie forgotten alongside his colleagues.
At length he came to rest on ground of some kind. It wasn't rocky, it felt more like silt. The pressure was tremendous, as was the cold, but his body could withstand both. No, neither of those posed a threat. No, his end would be because the power of the All Spark had just about burned out his own spark. Death was coming for him; he could feel his very life flickering like a dying flame, the last embers fading out one by one. In these last moments he realized he'd been a fool. Not only had he doomed himself but he'd also doomed his comrades, his… friends. Perhaps he deserved it, this slow, painful end. …No. He didn't want to die. He wanted to survive somehow, some way. Face down in the silt, he murmured to himself, invoking a deity he hadn't so much as thought of for eons… "Primus… Primus, help me…" The irony of it wasn't lost on him. Why was he even bothering? After what he'd done, he had no right to pray. Going silent, he just lay still and waited to die. He took a little comfort in the fact that the end wasn't long in coming. No, it was merely a few moments before the darkness rose up to claim him…
A light pierced the darkness, a pure, white light like a star in the night sky. A connection was made, a link forged, and the light became part of him, feeding the last dying ember of his spark and holding off death. A voice resonated in his mind, a gentle, beautiful female voice. "Such a small thing…" The voice wasn't speaking to him, or about him, but he didn't mind because somehow he knew the voice was linked to whatever was keeping him alive at that point. "Such a small and innocuous thing…" That was all the voice said. It went silent after that, but he could still feel the presence of whoever or whatever it belonged to. He could feel the presence, and see the light, and the light told him many things about what he had been linked to. Here was a kind, gentle soul, someone who could care deeply for another, and who would willingly lend aid when needed. Anything else, he didn't know, and in that moment it didn't matter. More would come later; he was sure of that. For now, he was perfectly content just to lie in the comforting embrace of the light and know that he still lived. At length he rested, and he dreamed…
As had been the case nearly every time he'd tried to sleep ever since he began the war for the All Spark, he dreamed of battlefields. His troops arrayed before him, the ranks of the foe waiting across the way… The battle in full swing, him giving orders, really in his element now, forms locked in combat and him awaiting his turn, his chance to join the fray… He could see his brother on the other side of the battlefield. No, he could no longer claim kinship, not now. They had been brothers once, but by his actions he had become… "The enemy…" Soft as it was, that voice drew his attention. Turning, he beheld a single small form, a human form, walking slowly through the chaotic battle, shots and bodies passing through like smoke. It was a female human, it took a few seconds but he could indeed tell. But what would a human be doing here in his memories? Still, its… no, her presence stirred something inside him. He had always been able to sense the All Spark's location, and now that sense was telling him that there was more to this ghostly human figure than what was readily apparent, that this was no true human. A grin took shape on his face. His prize had come to him… the All Spark stood before him cloaked in a human form. The war would end, no longer would he or his troops have to fight, all he would have to do was reach out to claim it and it would be his… The look of utter terror on the human's face stirred something inside him. On some level, he didn't want to harm the comparatively small creature. However, such feelings were easily ignored as he reached out to claim his prize. The human screamed in terror… and the world erupted in light.
The next scene he beheld was one utterly alien to him, and he beheld it through another's eyes. A room decorated with human things, a bed… He hadn't the slightest semblance of control over the movements of the body he was in. No, he was merely a passenger. The body he was in approached a mirror and he got his first good look at the face of whoever he was sharing a mind with. It was the same human as before, the female who had appeared in his dreams mere moments before. What was going on? Were these dying hallucinations, a fever dream spawned in the depths of his failing mind as the end came for him? If so, he didn't mind. There were worse ways to die.
That was how it began, and how his perspective on humans began to change. The buildings that had looked so small and fragile to the eyes of his true form became towering edifices worthy of awe and admiration. Looking closer with smaller eyes, the pathetic excuses for machines held a level of intricacy he'd never even dreamed of. The shining city the human called home reminded him of his own home back in the day, back before the war. The hustle and bustle was the same, only with organic beings. The lively banter of friends, the seemingly delicate interplay between commander and commanded… So much was the same. Perhaps… just perhaps… Had he been wrong about them? Then again, he hadn't had much time to think about it, or much exposure to any humans other than the ones who had kept him locked within that infernal prison they called Hoover Dam. He'd thought the whole species cruel, arrogant and highly opportunistic, willing to use the misfortune of another to gain an advantage. That had been part of the reason he'd been willing to just go ahead and kill the lot of them… repaying cruelty with cruelty.
But now, seeing through a human's eyes, watching the humans rebuild their city… Mission City, they called it… Now he saw a new side to them, a side he'd just barely glimpsed on the battlefield the city had been. He would never have admitted it, but he had been amazed to see them fighting back. Their bodies were fragile and their weapons inferior, yet they chose to stand and fight rather than flee or surrender. Such unyielding determination, such… courage. Yet this display of bravery, amazing as it had been, was as nothing in comparison to the quiet defiance of one young man who stared Death in the face and stood his ground. Gazing out from behind those human eyes, he could see the building where it had happened. The boy had been willing to die rather than surrender the All Spark. He'd seen stronger beings beg for mercy. The boy had to have known who he was and what he had done, had surely been aware of how easily and quickly Megatron could have killed him… yet he defied him. And to have come up with a plan so quickly, in the heat of battle, no less! He'd given the boy no more than a moment, yet he'd had enough time to not just hear and disobey his brother's order but come up with a plan of his own. It had been a brilliant thought, he had to admit. The human had extrapolated from his brother's words that if placing the All Spark in his spark chamber would be fatal for the Autobot leader, it would be the same way for Megatron. It's a pity the boy's a human, he thought. He would have made a great Decepticon. Then he caught himself. Even after all this, losing everything save his life and maybe even that too, realizing what he had thrown away, he still thought as a Decepticon. It was all so painfully ironic now…
In the lightless depths of the ocean there lay an odd grouping of shattered wrecks no bottom-dweller dared touch. No scavengers quested for sustenance upon the foreign objects, no shelter-seeking prey sought cover among them, and all predators turned aside their pursuits and went nowhere near. Mere animals, not gifted with higher reasoning, they never bothered to wonder why the place where the wreckage lay repulsed them so. No, it was enough for them to know, deep down inside with something that went beyond instinct, that these did not belong there. Even the lowly starfish, with no real brain at all, could feel that whatever lay there was completely and utterly alien, something that didn't belong in their world, or in the world at large. Unlike any other wreckage in the ocean, no coral took root upon them, no anemone spread its fronds, and even the plankton steered well away. There were four of them, these strange things… Four in all, and each of them was as pristine and untouched as it had been on the day it was dropped there. Since nothing went near, there was nothing there to react as twin red lights flickered to life.
He'd done it. He'd finally managed to break free of his memories. Megatron didn't move for a long moment, merely lying in the silt where he had fallen and thanking whatever deity was listening for the fact that he still lived. The pain was minimal, kept at bay by the cold, so his thoughts were clear as he took stock of the situation, noting injuries he hadn't previously had time to realize he had. His left arm was gone, severed just below the shoulder joint, the same was the case with his right leg from mid-thigh downward, and he was willing to bet that the rest of him didn't look much better. But he was alive, and that was good enough for him. Reaching up with his one remaining hand, he felt around for the hole in his chest, only to start in shock when he realized it was gone. There was no hole. Somehow, some way, the power that had preserved him, the power he still felt even at that very moment, had repaired the damage that had threatened his life. He was still very badly damaged, sure, but not fatally. Not anymore. A moment later he tried to raise himself up on his one remaining arm, to at least look around and get an idea of just where he was and possibly how to get out of there. The only light present was the dim glow of his eyes, but in the abyss that had almost been his tomb it proved to be more than enough. Any happiness he may have felt at being alive quickly evaporated when he caught sight of the mangled wrecks lying in the silt beside him. "No," he said to himself in numb horror. He'd seen them being dumped overboard, but now… seeing them here, especially after all the realizations that had passed through his mind…
The water resisted his every movement as he struggled to crawl closer to the bodies of his fallen comrades, swiftly draining away what little strength he had left. Letting his whole body just go limp, he rested for a while, trying to recover at least a little of his strength and for the first time feeling thankful for the water's chill since his overtaxed systems cooled all the faster. His mind whirled with feelings, memories of what he'd done as he forced himself to move again, toward the nearest body.
"Blackout," he thought as he stared down at the ruined body, limbs splayed, rotor blades fractured. "You were always so loyal to me, no matter what I did or ordered you to do. You believed in me, in what I said would come when the All Spark was mine. And look where it got you." He chuckled to himself a bit. "Look where it got me, for that matter." A sigh would have escaped him had there been air present. "You trusted me, and I betrayed your trust. I'm sorry." Another, larger form lay nearby. "Bonecrusher," Megatron realized, just sort of staring. "You hated everything, including me. …Hatred well earned, and deserved just as much." The last lay off to the side. "And Devastator," he thought. "You were just in it for the destruction, as I recall. You just wanted to kill things. Must've been a lot of fun while it lasted. This is probably how you would have wanted to die… Wreaking havoc on everything in sight." There were no others. Barricade… Frenzy… Starscream… Had they survived? Had his foolishness cost them their lives as well? It all seemed like a nightmare now… The whole war seemed like nothing more than a dream that he desperately wanted to wake up from. In that moment there was nothing in the universe he wanted more than to wake up and find himself back home in his bed, with all of this a fleeting fantasy conjured in a dreaming mind. He wanted to go back, back before it all, back to ruling alongside his brother as Lord High Protector…
He couldn't change the past, couldn't go back to being who he had once been. No, there was only who he was now, what he had become, and the harsh reality of the crimes he had committed. He was alive despite it all and the experience had changed him. But what now? How could he even begin to make up for what he had done? "Perhaps I should just let death claim me," he thought. It wasn't as if anyone would miss him, and it wasn't as if he didn't deserve it… "No," he decided. There was another way, he realized. It would be longer, it would be harder, but perhaps it would work. "I have to find my brother."
The first problem with that plan presented itself immediately. Here in the lightless depths, each direction looked the same. How would he know the right way to go? How could he know the right way to go? Relaxing for a moment, gathering his strength, he tried to figure out a solution to his problem. Nothing came to him. There really wasn't anything he could do at that point. He didn't dare set out, not without an idea of which way to go. The last thing he wanted was to get hopelessly lost, or end up somewhere he really shouldn't be. There had to be a way to figure this out… But no ideas were coming. And so, feeling completely clueless, he just let himself fall back to sleep, sure he would awaken again.
He knew she would be there, even before his dreams began, and though he no longer saw through her eyes, he still felt that connection. He tried to reach her every time he saw her, since her mysterious presence seemed to be the key to why he still lived and what the nature of the connection truly was. It was strong and rock solid now, that connection; strengthening with each dream she walked in… He could feel her out there somewhere. The pattern that had established itself repeated once again. He tried to reach her as he had a thousand times before. All evil intent was gone now, long ago replaced with desperation. His only hope rested with her. As she had done a thousand times before she reacted fearfully at the sight of him, as if she knew him, and once again everything erupted in light.
Something had changed. This much was obvious to him the moment he awakened. The presence he felt in his mind had become a call, a call very like the All Spark's beckoning power, a sweet symphony of agony and ecstasy that flooded his spark and filled his mind, driving all thoughts aside until nothing else mattered and he knew he would do anything to reach it… But the All Spark had been destroyed; he'd seen it himself. What could be calling to him? "It's connected to her somehow… I just know it." In his mind the strange feeling grew stronger still, the sheer power of it building in intensity until at last it broke him, a tsunami of pain and pleasure that smashed through his mental defenses as if they weren't even there. All resistance died within him as he yielded himself utterly to its summoning power. There was nothing else in his universe now, no thoughts or hesitation. No, there was only… "The call," he thought to himself. "I must follow the call!"
From that moment onward he was as one possessed, clawing his way forward like a madman. The fact that he was still very weak didn't so much as cross his mind, nor did it occur to him that he needed rest. He didn't care that he was pushing his damaged body too hard, hard enough to make total systems failure a very real possibility. No, the call was all that mattered, and he would follow it to the ends of the universe if he had to. As if assured that he was following, the call lessened greatly, giving him back his mind. Even with his mind given back to him, he still chose to follow because he wanted answers. What, besides the All Spark, could possess that much raw power? He had to know. So he kept following the call, letting it guide him through the dark.
He had no idea how long or how far he crawled in that oppressive darkness, and he doubted he ever would. At times he would rest, and as always she would haunt his dreams. He didn't know if it was day or night when he rested, but he assumed it was since the human had to have entered his dreams through dreams of her own, meaning she was asleep, and since humans mostly slept at night… At length the blackness began to give way to the deepest shades of blue he'd ever seen, and he knew he was reaching shallower water. This filled him with joy. He pressed on, and on, and things seemed to go more quickly as the water grew shallower and shallower. As the water's depth decreased, a new problem presented itself as he found himself buffeted by the rising and falling tide, and by the movement of water currents he'd previously been too deep down to feel.
After a semi-painful eternity of being somewhat thrown around by the powerful movements of the water around him, he finally broke the surface. A coughing fit seized him almost immediately as he expelled the water that had flooded his insides and took a breath of air, his first in months, if not years. "Primus, I missed air," he muttered to himself, finding that the sound of his own voice was strange to him. It felt strange to have air around him again, rather than water. His body felt… strangely heavy. Slowly crawling across the sand, beyond the reach of the lapping waves, he eventually just laid down on the beach and rested, feeling triumphant. He'd made it.
The sound the waves made as they hit the shore was… oddly soothing. He just stayed where he was, letting the sun warm his metal body and savoring this moment of peace. It was all so pleasant, lying there with nothing to worry about and no one to trouble him. He slept for a time, but he didn't see her since this was midday and she was wide awake at that point, but his dreams were cut short as the power of the water's numbing chill wore off. His neural circuits fully warmed up, the pain of his injuries returned, dragging him screaming back to awareness. "Ah, yes," he grumbled. "I almost forgot about that."
He knew he couldn't just stay there, and with his injuries he'd be lucky to get anywhere at all. Damaged as he was, weak as he was, he had only one option. Pushing the pain to the back of his mind, he tried to transform. What was usually quick, smooth and easy came in painful fits and starts, requiring a lot of concentration. It seemed like forever before it was done, but it worked. He didn't know what effect the damage would have on his jet form, but he was willing to bet that he looked fairly mangled at that point. After a moment of just sitting there and gathering his strength, he tried firing up his thrusters. A thick cloud of greasy black smoke belched forth, along with a sound like a gunshot. "Oh, wonderful." A second try produced a smaller cloud, but his thrusters shuddered to life.
Takeoff was a little harder than normal, but soon he was in the air, following the call across terrain that blurred into utter meaninglessness, barely able to stay aloft and fighting for it, fighting to stay in the air. He didn't know how long or far he flew, but he supposed it didn't matter. He was getting closer. Every passing moment brought him closer to the call's source, to the end of this part of his journey. Given what he'd seen through the human's eyes, he was willing to bet that he was being led back to Mission City. That was good, since that was where he'd last seen his brother and the other Autobots and he was willing to bet that they had most likely remained in that area.
Consciousness wavered and he became aware of the fact that his altitude had been slowly decreasing all the while as his strength waned. "I have to keep going," he growled to himself. He was close, very close now. It seemed like forever before he saw the skyline of Mission City rising up before him. He could see the tallest building there, the one on whose rooftop he had witnessed the human capacity for courage. For a moment he wondered what had become of that boy, the boy who had defied him… Consciousness wavered again, this time more strongly, and he just barely managed to avoid falling out of the sky. The call… It was so close now… But his weakness was closer… "Perhaps…" his mind blurred again. "Perhaps… I have gone… far enough…" As he finally surrendered to gravity's pull, he just barely had time to notice the artificial lake below him…
The splash was deafening even to him, spraying water all around in a huge fountain. Not wasting a moment, he began to drag himself out of the human-made lake he'd landed in. The pain was terrible, waves of agony ripping through him with each and every movement. Once he was out of the water, he let his whole body go limp. He was exhausted and needed rest, and more than that he needed help. Now that there was no cold water to cool his overtaxed systems, he was in dire straits after how hard he'd pushed himself to get there. If he didn't get repairs soon, death wouldn't be far away. At that point he was hard-pressed to mind the thought of dying. It just hurt so much… A groan escaped him at the pain of it all. One part of his journey was done, but the next still lay before him. Now he had to find his brother and apologize for what he'd done. How could he have been so stupid back then? He had to reconcile with his brother if he was to stop the others, to keep them from continuing the foolishness he'd started. But deep down he doubted his journey would go any farther. No, it would most likely end here. He could feel it, could feel his systems starting to shut down. Total systems failure was on its way. He'd come so far, only to have it end here… No, he wouldn't surrender just yet. Maybe, if he was lucky, he'd be able to find one of the Autobots and apologize for his crimes before something vital shut down. Struggling to find the strength for one last effort, he reached out with his remaining arm to drag himself forward… Only to freeze at the sound of a terrified yelp. He didn't know where or how he found the strength to raise his head, but he did. "It's you…"