-Dealing with Death-

If this is REAL death, it isn't so bad, Nightshade said to himself, as he looked around within the Matrix. Okay, sure, I have no body, and what's left of me is comprised entirely of light, but at least I've got plenty of people to talk to.

Good to know you still look on the bright side, Nightshade, a familiar voice answered.

Nightshade turned. DINOBOT?

In the flesh... so to speak, Dinobot answered. I was beginning to wonder when I would see you here.

So now I'm really and truly dead, huh?

So it seems. What was that marvelous human expression? Something about magic in persistence.

'Third time's a charm?'

That's the one.

Nightshade took another look around. So, what do I do?

Do? Dinobot scoffed. You're dead. You accept it, and you move on.

No, I mean... What do you do all day, once you've made it here?

Well, at this moment, I'd shrug, if I had shoulders.

That much, huh?

Mostly we just float around, bestow ancient wisdom on the current Matrix-bearer when they come inside looking for answers. If I need a friendly ear, then--

What ears?

Dinobot growled.

Sorry. Had to try my hand at--

What hands?

Touché.

As I was saying, if I need someone to talk to, I usually drift over and visit my great-great-uncle Sludge. He's not much for conversation, but at least he isn't prone to sarcastic remarks.

Do I detect a hint of laconic wit? Nightshade would've smiled if he could. I never took you for a comedian, Dinobot.

Well, considering the only combat I can get here is a verbal joust, you can bet your bottom Energon cube that sooner or later, I'm going to get pretty good at it.

"As touching as your reunion is, I'm afraid I must interrupt," a new voice said. "Nightshade, was it?"

That's correct. But who are you?

"I thought you knew me better than that," the voice replied. "After all, I floated in full view when I attacked you." An image of a white skeleton's face with glowing red eyes appeared in front of the two of them.

Leave me alone! Nightshade yelled at him. Haven't you done enough already? Have you no respect for the dead?

Pretty good for a beginner, Dinobot commented.

Thanks, I'm quite happy with it.

"Are you two done?" the skull asked.

Why do you care? Nightshade asked. I thought you'd love to find me here!

"You're right; it's quite pleasing to see you getting used to death, Nightshade. All the same, I am here to tell you that you are not actually dead."

WHAT?

"Your sonic attack was a taxing exertion, and you have short-circuited one too many systems, but you are not dead. I don't know what a mechanical life-form would call it, but the closest human approximation to your current condition would be 'comatose'. Your beast form is making repairs as we speak."

So where am I? My body, I mean. Philaemos said it would vaporize me once it'd beaten me.

"Originally, it had. But after seeing some of the things Philaemos has done in your place, I saw fit to alter that timeline in your favor."

Nightshade turned toward Dinobot.

Don't even ask, Dinobot told him, sensing his confusion. I don't understand this any more than you do. The 'ancient wisdom of the Matrix' hasn't caught up to that yet.

All right, freaky skull thing, you've piqued my interest, Nightshade conceded. Explain your position in this matter.

"As I feared it would, Philaemos has dropped out of our control, and has begun operating on its own, without sanction and very much without sense. The changeling's task on Nexus Earth was to divert the time stream back toward its original course. Instead, Philaemos has scanned and copied the forms of your comrades, and is using them for its own personal--and rather perverse--amusement."

And how exactly have you altered time in my favor?

"Philaemos is still under the impression that it has vaporized your body, as it had said it would," the skull said. "But while it was doing so, I went back to that time and teleported what was left of you--piece-by-piece, to preserve the changeling's delusion--to our nebula, so that you could repair yourself. While that process is sorting itself out, I am projecting an image of myself into your Matrix, to make a deal with you."

What kind of a deal? Nightshade asked.

"Have I not made that clear? My intent is to help you turn the tables. I am asking you to go back to Nexus Earth. Tell Philaemos directly that it is to return. And destroy the changeling if it does not."

And in return?

"The reward is simple: Your life for the pretender. I am uncertain as to whether I am capable of unlocking your original memories, but you would be allowed to... how did you put it? Go your way."

Nightshade couldn't believe what he was hearing. You would awaken the memories of my first incarnation?

"If I can."

Nightshade calmed himself, and reviewed the skull's proposal. My task is to return Philaemos to your control, or failing that, destroy it outright. Upon completion of this task, you will attempt to unlock my original memories, after which I have your word that you will leave me to my own devices. Correct?

"Not exactly the words I'd have chosen, but a near-perfect summation."

And suppose I refused, what would happen then?

"I would simply destroy what remains of your body, and move on. Believe it or not as you choose, but there are several thousand people out there who are still tied to their respective realities, unwilling to leave for want of seeing 'justice' inflicted on Philaemos."

Then why do you need me specifically?

"Well, we don't need you specifically, not in the way that you mean," the skull explained. "But there are various small reasons why you are best suited to the task. You have the advantage of experience, you know your own body, you have a fresh memory of Philaemos's fighting style, and you know your way around words, to name but a few. On top of everything else, you would be the easiest one to re-outfit for the task, because we can link the upgrades directly to your neural systems, allowing you to acknowledge and make the most of them without the time-consuming process of trial and error."

Re-outfit in what way, exactly?

"Many ways. I could strengthen your armor, put more kick into your weapons, put an extra scanning function into your optic sensors... as the humans say, the sky's the limit."

I'll need protection against that paralyzing attack of his.

"Philaemos is an Agent of Death. One defeats Death by living."

Nightshade turned back to Dinobot. You got an answer for that one?

Yes, I think so. Now that you have joined the Matrix and properly experienced death, however briefly, it has bestowed a natural immunity upon you, against the powers of this 'Agent of Death.' Because Life is far more powerful than Death. Am I correct? Dinobot asked the skull.

"Again, not the words I'd have chosen, but a near-perfect summation. Nightshade, once you return to life, your resistance will take effect. Now, if I have answered your questions satisfactorily, is it a deal?"

If Nightshade could have at that moment, he would've smirked. What the Pit? Bring it on.


-End Chapter Eight-