World of Oneshots will go on hiatus after the posting next week, so I can prep to post a longer piece. That should be up by February.

A/N: I have never, currently do not, and most likely never will own the right to Transformers.

A Question of the Living and the Dead

Yes, I knew it was a bad idea to enter the old Necropolis Al for parts. Yes, no one's ever made it out of the Necropolis Al, even drones built solely for the purpose. Yes, it's said to be guarded by the souls of past Primes and their armies.

I just didn't realize how bad an idea could be until I was staring up at the legends come to life.

Another thing: the legends are really tall.

The gigantic figure of a prime that had been long dead stood in front of me, his plating a lifeless shade of grey, his optics burning white in the darkness. He spoke softly, menacingly.

:You dare enter the Necropolis?:

At least, I thought he spoke. I didn't really hear it with my audio receptors, so much as within my processor. It sends shivers down my backstrut. The sound was cold and rasping, like a gust of wind echoing through a long abandoned ruin. It contained notes of anger and foreboding, but also fear, frustration, disappointment and...loss. It was almost like I could hear the cries of thousands of lives being extinguished in his voice.

"Please, sir. Please. I'm hear to ask...a question."

I could feel, more than see, him frown. :It is neither the business nor the place of the living to consult the dead on their problems.:

"Yes, I know, sir. But I'm here to ask you about something that's as much the business of the living as it is of the dead."

I waited, trying not to shake. The place gave me the creeps. Even without the rumors and stories of bots coming down here to be lost forever, the look would be enough to keep people out. I thought it would look like a tomb, with burial slabs and altars and stuff, like the other Necropolises. It wasn't a tomb. It was a city.

Black, abandoned looking buildings stretched out in all directions, crumbling from millennia underground and uncared for. Holes gaped where doors once stood, maws that seemed to swallow up the light. The windows were filled with broken glass, very few panes still intact. The streets are laid out in a grid, and it seems to go on forever. At least, I couldn't see beyond a strange mist that gathered at each end of the street.

:A question of both the living and the dead.: Some of the menace is gone from his voice now. At least, I thought it was. In any case, I didn't feel as if I was going to collapse into a whimpering puddle of sparkling.

"You see, sir, there's this war that's about to start, and-."

:You want us to stop it.: Never mind. I might dissolve into a puddle after all. :Foolish mortal. Do you believe that we have the power to stop what happens to you from happening? Do you think that we do not have wars of our own among the dead? You would have done better to ask this of your Gods. I am certain others of your state are.:

I wanted to argue while he was saying all this. Really, I did. But when he spoke, it was as if a servo gripped my throat like a vice, squeezing until my vocalizer was partially crushed, and my vision had gone swimmy from a lack of energon to my processor. Only when he was done did the invisible force let go, letting me gasp and cough.

"That's not why I'm here," I managed to gasp out, gripping my knees to stay upright. His surprise was palpable, but he didn't say anything. I gulped, then rebooted my vocalizer, trying to clear out some of the static that was obscuring my words. I tried again. "I'm not here to ask you to fight for a side, or to interfere with what goes on up there. I'm here for advice. And you can listen to what I have to say and help me, or you can pretend to and then send me on my way. But don't think for one second that I don't understand the laws that separate your kind from mine."

It was bold, I know. And stupid. But I was angry, and I wanted more than anything to get my answer and then get out of that place. I at least didn't look at him while I was saying it. When I did look back up, several more bots had come to join him. They flanked him, curious and wary of me. Funny. I thought I was supposed to be wary of them.

:Then what is it that you want to know.:

If I hadn't known better, I would have sworn that I heard impatience in his voice.

"The war's about to start. Everyone who can is being sent to help the war effort. Most people are fighting. They want me to fight. But I..." I swallowed. "My calling isn't on the battlefield."

:Your calling?:

"I...my mother, she was a seer. She told me, before she died, that I was not meant for battle. She said that my place was to honor the dead and cherish the living. But I never had the makings for a priest, so I don't understand what she said. And no one among the living has been able help me figure it out. So I thought...why not consult the dead?"

:Cherish the living, honor the dead.: I looked up at his tone. There was a touch of a smile on his face. :Indeed, I can see that you do not have it in you to take lives.: He paused. :Have you had teaching in anything?:

I shook my head. "That's also kind of why I'm down here. I've got to choose what I want to study, so they can give me as much of a teaching as they can before we start fighting. There's, of course, soldiers. I was never really good at tactics, or leadership, or engineering or science. But then there's also medics."

:Ah. I see. You want to know if you should take lives, or save them.:

I felt my face color. "When you say it like that, it sounds so simple."

:Is it not?:

I shook my head again. "Not for me. It's, should I be a service to my faction and take a position that not many want, or take the easy way out and choose the route that many are also taking?"

I felt two servos like ice rest on my shoulders. I looked up, to see the mech leaning down and scrutinizing me. I froze, feeling him look straight through me, into my processor, into my spark. Suddenly, he let go, standing again.

:As you said. It is not your calling to be a soldier.:

I looked up. The rest were leaving, disappearing into the mists. He began to turn to leave to.

"Wait! You mean-?"

:You have a healer's touch. It is not your place to take lives. It is your place to save them. Cherish the living. Honor the dead.:

"But-but-how can you be sure?"

He was fading into the fog now. He didn't look back when he answered.

:I cannot. But you are.:

I started to run after him, but he and the others disappeared. I was alone in a city that was only ever meant to house the dead. I shivered.

A flash of movement caught my optic. I spun, seeing a femme whip around a corner. I only caught a glimpse of the femme, but it was enough.

"Mom?"

But she was gone. I stood there, watching the direction she had fled. If I thought about it, I could have sworn that I saw her smile before she ran.

I looked over me, to where thousands of bots were going about their business without even knowing what lurked beneath their feet. I turned and began to trot to where I'd entered Necropolis A1. I'd need to talk to Ratchet today if I was going to start classes as an apprentice medic.

Thanks for reading! You should review! Only one more oneshot after this that you'll be able to review for a while!