This is the joint I'll be putting challenge fics, the random bits I write after I've seen a good inspirational movie, whatever, NOT related to OLOBA at all. :)
I don't even want to know what possessed me to write this piece... well, nevermind, I do know what did it, the line below. and I doubt I"ll go any further with it, it's just a one shot that I wrote last September, and fucked if I can think of a title.
WARNING: 07 movie AU, and not pretty, and written in less than ten minutes with no editting. You've been warned.
"Every species can smell its own extinction. The last ones left won't have a pretty time with it. In ten years, maybe less, the human race will just be a bedtime story for their children. A myth, nothing more." ~ In the Mouth of Madness
It was ten years to the day. The Mission City battle, the loss of the Allspark and Optimus Prime, the vow of vengeance from Megatron and the surviving Decepticons, the resulting carnage of both human and Autobot that lasted, well, ever since. The bloodshed hadn't ceased, with every new day another thousand humans died, another hopeful cadre of Autobots ripped to pieces.
It only took Megatron three years to complete what we humans had been doing for over a century. With over a hundred troops and near limitless natural resources, plus some brought from his home planet and surrounding galaxies, he brought the to atmosphere such toxins that it rained acid and ash, blotted out the sun with clouds carrion black, and it took only a few months for most of the plant-life to wither and die, and a year after that for the animals. Five years after his Victory, he'd driven nearly every human underground, the others he used as slaves, target practice, hell, even energy sources. That shitty movie the Matrix? Yeah… Morpheus was right. We're nothing but batteries for the machine.
We'd stopped cheering in hope when another warship full of Autobots landed two years ago. They never lasted more than a few days. If they were lucky, a human loyal to the cause would be around to explain a few things to them, take them and hide them underground with the rest of their clan. And if that clan were extremely lucky, they didn't have a snitch or a weakness in their fortifications, or someone extremely sleepy on guard duty. Those Autobots usually lasted a few months before depression, hopelessness, or gunfire and claws got a hold of them. Maybe one or two survived even that, and stayed, because really, where were they supposed to go?
Now, a decade after the enemy got the power of God, there were less than a million of us left worldwide. We only knew that because of Morse Code, a lot of luck and a fast Autobot on our side. The Autobots numbered at less than 20, with not much hope of any more showing up after all communications having been cut last year. And half of them were so fucked up by the tragedy of this planet and their future that they didn't do much but weep.
The Decepticons on the other hand numbered well into the hundreds now, giant killing machines whose purpose seemed solely to hunt us down and devour us, one way or the other.
It wasn't all bad though.
We had a power source. And although the Autobots who still had their CPUs intact didn't like it very much, we used it to its fullest extent. Some of the mechanoids had done some good and mangled a few Decepticons, and ripped out their sparks. Souls. Souls of dead monsters powered our little habitats, our dwellings, our computers, shitty though they were. The Bots didn't like that much. But they were vastly outnumbered and could also see the logic in it.
Those souls also powered our sunlamps. We had plants growing underground. Tomatoes. Cucumbers. Fuck, even a few lilies for atmosphere. Some fool went so far as to plant a pine tree about four years ago so we could decorate it and pretend normalcy for a few hours every Christmas. The thing isn't even as tall as I am yet, but hey, beggars can't be choosers, now can they?
We have a few cows, chickens, pigs, cats and dogs, a few other birds, a pool for fish… Fresh Meat.
We've had four births since last May. All healthy little boys and girls, named after our dead Heroes, and were doing well. With the Autobots help and a generous amount of coddling, they were developing quickly.
Every once in a while, I'd see smiling human faces and hear a hum or whistle and know that we've made some progress, or at least somebody is having a good day.
I just hoped that tomorrow would bring more.
Ten years later, a million of us left, and the storm pounding us, unrelenting, and still, we stood up and lived, thrived, and once in a while, scored a small victory.
a/n: POV = Random Chick #69