Here is the second chapter everyone, I hope you enjoy reading it. I apologise for this chapter being shorter in length than my usual 2000 words but this wasn't actually planned as a full chapter, a plot bunny just ran away with me trailing behind it.
His processor was full of information, tactical computer working full speed to sort through it all. The confines of the laboratory had been his home for the past ten orns and the technicians and other staff had been his mentors, his source of information. It was here that he had been taught to balance despite his wings dragging him backwards every time he stood. Walking had been difficult to master but controlling his processor and battle computer had been simple in comparison.
Everyday he was given increasingly challenging tactical data to sort through. The technicians in the lab studied how he sorted through it, every moment of his day watched. He was never alone, had never been without the guidance of his mentors. To be suddenly told that he had to go out into the world beyond this room, without anyone he had come to know was shocking.
Instead he had been told that his creator, or the mech he was required to call creator, would take him to a place with other mechs and femmes his own age but far below his computing level. He had been told not to get to know the others there, or at least not to become fond of them, form friendships. In place of that, he was told to study the others, to note how they reacted to each other, how they interacted with others and their environment. Really, he didn't see the point in this, he was capable of being a full mech and he had already proved he was far beyond the usual capabilities of most final framed mechs.
There were things he still needed to know, to develop. He needed to be able to respond to his designation, Prowl. He needed to be able to uphold the pretence of a normal youngling and in the future a normal mech. He needed to be able to pretend he had feelings, emotion running through the frame, even in the absence of those entities. He needed to be able to function the normal number of joors a day instead of functioning for much longer and on less energon than the average mech. Overall he needed to be able to control his battle computer and rampant processor.
How would the Orn care help him with these skills? How would interacting with other younglings help him? If the benefits were clear he probably wouldn't have an issue with it but so far no benefits had been made clear to him. There were so many flaws in the plans by the technicians that you could use the flimsy thing as a sieve.
It was pitiful how he could see the flaws in their plans when they could not. They had much more experience than him, that he could recognize and still they could not formulate plans properly. Obviously the younglings he would be interacting or observing wouldn't help him with anything, other than pretence they were trying to keep up.
The room around him was ripe with sounds, the humming of machines and the whirring of the vents. From outside the room Prowl could hear the footsteps of the mechs he considered mentors and the cleaning crew could be heard as they swept the corridors. The sound of a light voice was carried to him from somewhere deep within the compound, the noise detected by his door wings.
The sound of unusually loud footsteps could be heard coming closer, approaching the door to the laboratory confidently. The way the sound echoed Prowl could tell it was someone with door wings and of quite some height. Only astroseconds after he detects the sound of footsteps the door swings open, revealing a tall, black praxian mech. The door wings upon his back held at a stiff angle, never twitching or swaying in response to sensory input. His cool yellow optics holding Prowl's own blue optics seemed to be appraising him, analyzing him to make sure he was up to standard, a standard unknown to Prowl.
Without a word this mech gestured to him to follow so he rose from his position upon a berth and followed after this mech. This was the first time he had been outside the room he onlined in. Out here the light seemed to be brighter but still artificial. A long passageway stretched out on either side of him, noise echoing down it's length. The mech in front of him turned to the left and started walking forward at a fast pace.
Doorway upon doorway was ignored as Prowl followed this mech down the everlasting corridors. Just when it seemed that they would walk on forever the mech turned off into a doorway larger than most they had passed. Following right behind the unknown mech he entered the room, sensors tuned to catch the slightest thing that was unusual. Doorwings were held tight, drawn close to his back as he walked through the doorway, battle computer providing him with thousands of scenarios to work through.
The briefest of sensory sweeps allowed him to work out the layout of this unfamiliar room. Along the far side of the room stood a long bench, a sink in the middle of the bench it's silver steel glinting with the artificial light. The light here was dimmer than it was in the corridor and slightly darker than it was in the lab. In the centre of the room was an arrangement of chairs, their comfortable surface allowing for a more social feel to the room. At one side of the room wood an energon dispenser, the liquid within it a dark pink colour, almost tinged red.
Upon the seats in the middle of the room sat a femme, much taller and more commanding than Prowl. Her aura that of someone relaxed in their surroundings. The femmes frame was a rich black with delicate grey lines adorning her helm. Upon her helm sat a red chevron, identical to the one upon Prowl's own helm. The femme sat with an energon cube in her servos, the colour of the liquid was black, unlike the syrupy mixture in the dispenser. Her optics were the most unusual thing about her, their blue coloring much like his own seemed fake, as if she didn't really have optics. Such a notion was absurd but that is what Prowl originally thought when he saw the optics.
Standing in the center of the room Prowl waited for the mech to follow him inside and for someone to say something. He didn't have to wait long because the unknown femme spoke up before the mech had a chance to speak.
"I don't know why you want me here Creator three, it's not like I'm one of your creations. What do you need me for, I don't have long before I need to return home so that I can attend to my schooling with Creator one," the black femme said in such a tone that it sounded as though she had higher standing than the imposing mech.
"You may return home immediately after this SparkSoul, I do not intend to keep you for long. I requested your presence here because I have finally brought one of my creations online and I believe he will fall into your group to care for. Could you please acquaint yourself with my creation, his designation is Prowl. He has a battle computer installed, not quite as powerful as yours or your siblings but powerful nonetheless. He has been online for just over a deca-orn and will enter into the Orn care system as of next Orn," the mech said as he listed off Prowl's main features and drew attention to the black and white frame.
The gaze of the femme, designation SparkSoul, was turned to Prowl. Her door wings flickered briefly as she scrutinized his frame, undoubtedly taking in as many details as possible. After a few dragging astroseconds Prowl felt a tug at his spark, the feeling slightly uncomfortable but seemingly welcome if his spark had anything to say about it. The tug turned into words within his processor.
"Prowl, I am SparkSoul, a creation of creator one and creator two. I am one of the last Praxian ancientsand only slightly ahead of you in development. Each of the younglings, sparklings, mechs and femmes within our extended family has been put into a group. Each group has a leader, an ancient, whose duty it is to protect the others within the group. You will be in my group. To ensure I can help you when I am needed I need to create a sibling bond with you. Will you allow me to do this?"
For Prowl refusing was simply an illogical idea, one that would yield no rewards so he immediately acquiesced to the request. In return it did not take long for him to feel the presence of SparkSoul seep through his spark and establish a connection. The connection soon faded to nothing but an echo of the femmes essence.
Throughout the short time the establishment of the connection took, Prowl had remained standing, door wings held close to his back. The mech who had shown him to the room had also remained standing, his posture showing indifference to the situation.
As soon as the mech, supposedly creator three, noticed that the bond had been established he gestured for Prowl to leave the room ahead of him before turning back to SparkSoul.
"thank you for your time, that was all that was needed," creator said, his voice showing just the barest hint of gratitude.
"I'm glad I came however you must remember that I will be here again if you treat Prowl wrong, he is my charge to care for. I will leave your place now and return above ground to the duties I left to be here," SparkSoul stated, the threat within her final comment clear to all.
Prowl and the mech returned along the corridors they had walked earlier. The lights no longer seemed too bright or the walkways too long. On their return to the lab, creator three said nothing to Prowl, instead leaving him to go inside as his larger frame strode away, purpose in his stride.
Turning to the door Prowl pushed it open before walking right in. The room was much like he left it except now technicians wandered around the room, tinkering with the different experiments and computers within the room. Far off to the side, the doorway leading through to a room he was not allowed to enter, stood open. The open doorway showcased the darkness inside, the absence of light. A slight shudder graced the black and white youngling's frame before he turned to his berth and sat upon it, awaiting the next set of data to work through or the next lesson he would be taught.
Thanks for reading! Reviews please?