A/N: After some planning, I thought it was a good idea to bring a few more characters (any characters, really) to this story. I've included a brief tribute in here to a fellow writer's favourite fanfiction couple (Flora from Claymore and Vincent from Final Fantasy). I've given them specific roles to include them as part of the TF 00 universe, keeping the story focused on Setsuna and company.

I hope you enjoy the chapter. ^o^

Chapter 13: Communion in Solitude

It had only been a week since Setsuna's sudden but evocative encounter with the princess of Azadistan. But despite the comfort they naturally found in each other's eyes, she had fled before he could reach out for her, to pull her closer into the warmth of his arms. An inexperienced woman herself, Marina could not yet confess that she had so willingly given her heart to the pilot eight years her junior. She might have found him a rather interesting outcome of Celestial Being as early as when he first snuck into her palace bedroom in the dead of night, only to engage her in a rather dry debate on the nature of war. But like his new quantum capabilities and his affinity with 00 Gundam and Optimus Prime, their relationship was also changing. It was transforming into a spiritual bond that simultaneously craved physical intimacy. They burned with the desire to guide each other's journey on the path of peace, but their silent, mutual demands to touch and be touched could no longer be ignored.

And perhaps that was what dumbfounded Meister and princess alike.

So it had come as an unpleasant dilemma when Feldt invited Setsuna out to lunch two days after their touchdown on Mount Fuji. He had surprised himself by consenting quite docilely, and even going so far as to suggest a location for their date: Shibuya, one of Tokyo's most famous centres of fashion and nightlife.

A date between comrades. That was all it meant.

Still, in many ways, his current circumstances felt even more bizarre than his mysterious, psionic connection with 00 Gundam and Optimus Prime. How long had it been since he had talked to a woman without pretending to be someone else, without maintaining the necessary façade of a civilian? How long had it been since he gathered the courage and desire to caress someone like Marina? Was he changing in more ways than one? Did he owe it to 00 Gundam at all? Or was it more so within his own core?

The shadow of Starscream's revelations had troubled him even this day, as he forced himself from his frugal bed and entered the shower, slowly unwinding the bandage around his bicep. His wounds had largely healed, although he opted to keep a close eye on the scar near his abdomen. After several minutes of unthinking bathing, he whisked his towel from the metal rack and dried his thin, naked body, his eyes reflective as he dwelled on the new form the Decepticon had assumed upon their first encounter. "Nergal Gundam…" he murmured. "They understand everything about their new configurations… are the Decepticons that adept with Veda already?" How long had it been since they planted their agent within the Innovators' headquarters? How had they even known where to look? Such information was still unknown to Celestial Being, and it was highly unlikely they would know anytime soon. Was it located on Earth? In an asteroid? Or perhaps it was a planetary body of its own?

Concentrate, he chastised himself silently. Discard all your other worries and focus.

Focus on your date.

Jeans, a white shirt, and a navy blue coat. And sunglasses, for the added purpose of disguise. He made a note to advise Feldt of doing the same thing. Slipping on his socks and shoes, he made his way to his desk and dialled Feldt's unit number. She picked up almost immediately. "Setsuna?"

"We'll catch a lift from Bumblebee to Tokyo, but he can't stay with us," he said. "Let's meet in the repair bay. He'll be waiting for us there."

"S… sure."

She must have prepared herself earlier than me, he noted. He made his way out of the east wing of the spaceship, walking slowly and deliberately until he came to the repair bay. Pressing his finger against the digital lock, he waited for the security drone to acknowledge him. He would have to thank Bumblebee later. He didn't expect him to go out of his way to help him with this rather unusual day. Such a favour was at great personal risk, for the Autobots were now officially outlawed as extraterrestrial invaders. Even with their disguises, they would not manage to sneak into civilian sectors thanks to the military land vehicles they had scanned through the first skirmish against the A-Laws. He took a deep breath as the door slid open and his eyes fell upon the alternate humvee mode of the Autobot… and the young belle that stood beside it, waiting for him. She was gorgeously dressed, her one-piece chemise and skirt decorated with pleasing floral patterns. She had drawn her hair together in a curly ponytail, and her large eyes reflected a side rarely seen during her younger years – a pleasure and fearlessness in the company of those close to her.

He blinked, adjusting his white collar. "It's rare to see you in a dress like that." He stopped himself, noting that there was no need to hold back. "What I mean to say is… it's beautiful."

Feldt smiled bashfully, looking down at her own outfit, at her bright fabric and her slim, sandalled legs. "Thank you, Setsuna."

As if to drop Setsuna a hint, Bumblebee revved his alternate mode's engine. The humvee roared to life, preparing to drive the two humans to Tokyo. Setsuna followed Feldt into the back seats, muttering a grateful acknowledgment to Bumblebee as he strapped on his seat belt.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't forget those black tresses.

*

It was raining.

Lockon casually raised a tall umbrella and released a black canopy above a shivering Anew Returner, sheltering them from the unexpected Japanese rain. He had hoped to enjoy a longer day with the new crewmember by calling her out relatively in the morning. It was apparent that such a consideration did not help in the face of such random weather patterns. Although he had prepared for such occurrences upon his arrival in the island nation, it was a pity that the beautiful and cosmopolitan skyline now resembled Dublin – a city that he was certainly fed up and over with. Running past east exit of Shinjuku station, the twosome hurried past the raincoated crowds and past the families, friends and lovers that huddled close in the wake of the morning shower. Lights glimmered around the tourists as their booted feet splashed across the puddles on the metropolitan crossing. They took refuge underneath the roof of a local coffee shop for several minutes, regaining their breath and laughing at the irony of their misfortunes. But luck was on their side. The clouds were struggling to offer much more, and soon, the rainfall had been reduced to a light patter, before dying away completely.

"Look. It's a green light," said Anew, pointing towards the crossing. She glanced at him. "Aren't we going, Lyle?" She blinked in surprise as he held out a cardboard, patterned cup of steaming hot cappuccino. "How did you get that so quickly?"

"Magic," he smirked, releasing the cup as she received it into her chilly hands. She took a demure sip as he stood back, watching the crowds returning to the business of their daily hurly-burly. Trenchcoats, raincoats, jackets, fashionable high heels and handbags… He and Anew possessed none of that. They wore outfits markedly similar to their Celestial Being garments, although their coats obviously did not bear an emblazoned symbol of the world's most hated organization. He shifted towards her, lending his bodily warmth to her as they observed together the brightening sky. "My, my. We can't let a little rain spoil a beautiful day like this, can we?" he said.

She shuffled her feet as she continued to savour her drink's aroma. "Thanks to you, I won't be able to concentrate on my engineering when we get back," she chastised in jest.

He sighed, bringing his arm around her shoulder and pulling her closer. She blinked in surprise as he playfully whisked away her cappuccino and placed it aside on a bench. "For once, let's not talk about the Ptolemaios," he suggested, almost pleadingly. He lowered his face, gazing at her luscious mouth, her somewhat parted lips. "There's more interesting things about you than your work. Like your… expertise."

"My expertise? Do you mean my expertise in engineering… or my skill in cooking?" asked Anew playfully, closing her eyes submissively as his teasing finger nudged her smooth cheek. "Why are you so curious, Lyle? Do you want to find out? Perhaps you want us to exchange secrets."

"Oh," mock-exclaimed the Gundam Meister. "Now I'm impressed by your detective skills, as well. But of course we'll exchange secrets. We can even keep this whole affair shushed up, if that's your preference."

"A secret sweetheart… that sounds typical of you." She turned away, avoiding his deep gaze as he cupped her face completely. "I daresay I've begun to understand you… in one way or another."

He could not resist a chuckle. "And what do you think of the man you've understood so far?"

Anew blushed, blinking away raindrops from her eyelashes. "I… I like what I've seen very much, Lyle."

He took her arm, and she looked up at him, half-nervously, half-hopefully. His friendly grin grew wider, more unreserved as he stared into crimson irises. Her hands found his broad chest, and he raised his umbrella higher as he pulled her against him.

"Anew."

Drenched in the invigorating dew of the cool morning, their kiss warmed their otherwise cold lips.

*

Bumblebee had withdrawn back to Mount Fuji to avoid unnecessary risk once he had dropped Setsuna and Feldt at the outskirts of Shibuya Prefecture. To Setsuna's chagrin, however, he had forgotten the map (a rather boastful tourist's version) he had scanned for this very day. Four years had done much to wash away his technical memories of life as an undercover agent. Feldt had urged him to ask for directions to the main hub of the district, but he flatly refused to depend on a stranger so quickly. His excuse, to Feldt's slight amusement, was something along the lines of, "Gundam Meisters run a huge risk in asking for help from civilians."

What risk? Your masculinity?

She felt almost relaxed enough to tease Setsuna's stoic but silly determination to find his way around the city. But by unnerving coincidence, as they moved to cross a road to reach the underground station to Shibuya Station, a black family car unexpectedly pulled over before them, its automatic window lowering and revealing a beautiful blonde and a narrow-eyed man with short but flowing black hair at the wheel. She was dressed in a professional but unabashed black top and grey chemise, with a matching short skirt and high heels accompanying her attire. Her dark, forbidding partner was garbed in an immaculate, raven business suit with a crisp necktie, and he did not look at Feldt as the blonde peered out of her window. "I'm sorry if we seem suspicious. You seem to be first-time tourists," observed the youthful, buxom woman with a hint of wry sympathy. She removed her slim sunglasses, revealing unusual silver eyes that reflected the younger couple clearly. "May we give you a lift?"

Setsuna fell into a sullen silence, but Feldt was quick to accept. She pinched Setsuna's arm reproachfully and forced him to follow her lead. The ebony-haired, pale man silently nodded for them to climb on, and Feldt gently took the Kurdish man's hand and eased herself into the back seat of the comfortable, air-conditioned family car. "If you're newcomers to Shibuya, I suspect you're hoping to get to Hachikō Square," prompted the woman.

"Yes, we are," said Feldt. "I'm sorry for the trouble. My name is Feldt Grace, and this is Kamal Majirif. You're completely correct – we are first-time tourists."

Setsuna paused in surprise. She knows that I prepared an alias?

"We haven't introduced ourselves – how impolite of me. My name is Flora, and this is my husband, Vincent." In the frontal passenger's seat, the belle nodded and smiled at her silent spouse, who continued driving. "The two of you are students?"

"Yes. Kamal's from Afghanistan, and I'm from England," said Feldt quickly, as Vincent turned right towards a main street. Buildings and local shops sped past them as he accelerated, passing by several less impressive automobiles. Another turn, and they were soon approaching the more famous areas of Shibuya. Feldt only regretted that Bumblebee had no choice but to avoid these populated sectors. "What about you? Where do you work?"

"My husband and I are employed in international diplomacy and peacekeeping for the Federation." At Flora's unexpected reply, Setsuna suddenly raised his head, his attention sharpened as she continued to speak. "We're stationed here for the next few weeks. We have our hands full with settling people's grievances with the Autonomous Robotic Organisms."

"You – you mean Autobots?" blurted Setsuna.

"Yes."

"What could the Autobots possibly be guilty of?" asked Setsuna. To a stranger, his tone and accent would have sounded perfectly calm and innocently, but Feldt had known him long enough to detect the muffled indignation and anger in his voice. She looked at him worriedly.

Luckily, Flora was amongst those strangers. She placed a slender hand to her chin. "I suppose much of it is classified material, but I cannot help shaking off the suspicion that…" Her silver eyes shone. "That so many of the reports are unfounded, built on shaky evidence, if at all. I even have some doubt in regards to the accuracy of the reports on the Autobots' apparent attack on the Orbital Elevator." She blinked, and laughed softly. "But surely I must sound quite mad. The global consensus is that the Autobots are war criminals and on a level comparable to that of Celestial Being."

"When you find yourself in the majority, it's time to stop and think," said Setsuna at once, and Feldt had to restrain herself from lunging and covering his mouth with her hands. Vincent looked up into his rear-view mirror, his dark, sharp eyes observing Setsuna closely. The latter fell into silence, waiting for him to speak – but to his suspicion, he remained quiet, focusing his attention on the wheel. Flora blinked in surprise at Setsuna's sudden outburst before giving him a serene smile.

"You seem wise beyond your years, Mr. Majirif."

They travelled in silence for the remaining ten minutes of the journey. Eventually, the familiar sights of Shibuya Station and Hachikō Square came into view. Vincent switched gears, and the car stopped before several large crowds that stood waiting for their dates and appointments around the renovated statue of the legendary dog Hachikō. Three hundred years had changed nothing. Throngs of young people still flooded the avenues and sidewalks, filtering in and out of cafes, fashion boutiques and convenience stores. News broadcasts and advertisements were being screened on two of the giant televisions across from Shibuya's famous scramble crossing, and dozens of busy commuters and dwellers had already surrounded Vincent's car. He could not stay parked for long. "We're here," said Flora, looking back past her seat and smiling at Setsuna and Feldt. "It was very nice meeting you. With a dash of luck, perhaps we'll see each other again someday."

"Thank you so much for your kindness," said Feldt nervously. She stepped out of the car and onto the pavement, and Setsuna followed. "Have a wonderful day."

"Thank you," said Setsuna, and Vincent returned his gratitude with a curt tilt of his head. Flora waved, and the sleek car revved and shot away in a burst of clean, crisp solar power. As the sights, scents and sounds of Shibuya hurled themselves on them, Setsuna and Feldt glanced at each other for several silent moments as the hustle and bustle continued, before the pink-haired woman released a quiet sigh of relief.

"Those two were Federation agents," she breathed. "I'm amazed we managed to hitch a ride with them. But they seemed like very nice people."

"That woman's suspicions… could mean that some within the Federation don't believe the lies of the A-Laws. It could work to Optimus Prime's favour," observed Setsuna quietly. He turned to her, his face almost hilariously serious. "But as long as they don't find anything suspicious about us, we should be fine. Now, hurry. We must go find somewhere to eat."

Feldt smiled at his abrupt manner of conversation. This peerless pilot, martial artist and marksman was, after all, inexperienced in many other ways. "This isn't an assignment from Ma'am Sumeragi, you know," she pointed out softly, reminding him of something he barely knew. He blinked, and slumped in slight awkwardness. She nudged him forward with a playful knuckle against his back, and he obeyed, moving towards a rather expensive looking avenue of restaurants, pizzerias, ice-cream parlours and cafés. "You're going to forget about our work for once, Setsuna, and it'd be nice if you learned how to do it with me."

After all, I also need to learn, she observed silently to herself.

*

Shiraito Falls. Fujinomiya, Shizuoka Prefecture

The flowers were blooming.

Sumeragi laid down a plaid sheet on the grass, glancing to her side as Prime wandered off to watch the seasonal trees. She had brought him here, and like an awestruck toddler, he had lost himself in the organic beauty of the Japanese woodlands and groves, which welcomed him most hospitably. "Beautiful," he whispered respectfully, bending down to observe the tree that offered up its flora to the sentinel. "Such biotic art… never have I seen such delicate splendour on Cybertron."

"I can't guarantee your safety if you venture out with me like this. You're lucky the people here are apathetic to Federation policy." He smiled at her warning and nodded, patiently tolerating the families of little birds that flew onto his shoulders to sing, twittering comfortably and joyfully as they perched on the Autobot like a tall, unruffled tree. Unlike Setsuna and Feldt, who had ventured off to Shibuya, or Lockon and Anew, who had arrived at Shinjuku in the morning, Sumeragi had been forced to take Prime to a secluded naturescape so he could escape human eyes – at least, eyes that might have belonged to those serving the Federation. Luckily, the current time of year happened to be an unpopular time for tourists, and at the very least, she could allow the Autobots to roam free on Japan's most revered volcano, Mount Fuji, for a day until Ian had completely repaired 00. She trusted that Ironhide and Ratchet (but perhaps not Bumblebee) would stay out of sectors prone to backpacker activity, and the sour Jetfire had refused to leave Ptolemaios altogether. All the more power to him – that was one less Autobot to worry about.

But what was she supposed to do with this one?

Having discarded her Celestial Being uniform in favour of a more casual, yellow blouse, Sumeragi could not help smiling to herself as she opened the picnic basket she had borrowed from Linda. Prime's feathered friends flapped their wings to balance themselves as he turned around from the trees. "Why are you amused?" he asked curiously, oblivious to a sparrow that pecked at his metal inquisitively.

She shook her head, nibbling at her soft piece cake and doing her best not to appear so captivated as she stripped off her sandals. "If you ever turned into a human being through some miracle… I could just imagine you drinking coffee by a Parisian café with a canvas by your tableside, looking out for beautiful scenery and women to sketch."

He looked at her, slightly deflated. "At least then, I would not need to avoid the creatures I swore to protect."

She laughed, this time more sadly. She felt rather childish about the whole affair. Practically speaking, she was having a picnic on her own; there was no one to share her food with – the sandwiches, the sponge cake, and the apple juice – he could never share the warmth of the human hearth and home with her, not because he did not desire to, but because he was incapable of the very act of eating. He was not human. He had no heart, but a spark. It was, in many ways, an absurdity. Why they had both agreed to spend a day like this together was beyond her.

"Leesa," he called. Jolted out of her eddy of thoughts, she let out a small squeak as he moved towards her. She looked up at him, setting aside the cake on her paper plate. The branches of the green canopy rustled eagerly in anticipation, and the nearby waterfall gushed expectantly. But it was what he did next that truly took her aback.

He lowered his hand, offering her a floret he had plucked from a tall tree. "For you," he said plainly, like a child presenting a prized toy to a loved one. He fell silent and waited as she stared at him, and then to the tiny petals in his large hand, and then back at him again. She could hardly believe it, as fantastic as the Transformers already were. That he could hold such a puny, infinitesimal thing of life and control his metal bulk from crushing it was already startling. That he could cradle with such expertise a helpless little organic stem hugged by frail petals was almost implausible. But as if it was not enough, one more thing amazed her, and that was the scope and extent of his love. Was there no end to the surprises he boasted of?

"Remove your faceplate," she murmured suddenly, rising from her mat on her bare feet.

He obediently separated and withdrew the segments of his faceplate to the sides of his helm, revealing his peculiar, thick, robot lips.

She nodded in satisfaction. "Now, pick me up."

He complied, gently taking hold of her soft, slender body and lifting her to his optic level. The birds twittered eagerly and flew off his shoulder, as if recognizing the privacy and intimacy between the two commanders. She spoke again, and the forest quietened itself. "Allelujah Haptism once told me how determined he was to reunite with Marie Parfacy, the girl he loved. I told him I envied him because at that time, I was a drunken wreck, with no reason to fight for a new world at all. I was behaving childishly, jealous that my boys – my Meisters – had matured beyond what I could ever hope for."

"Yet here you are, as mature as any human can be," he encouraged.

"I owe it to you, Optimus. Don't you see? I haven't forgotten what you said to me when you cradled me in the sacred desert of Egypt: that understanding one another is the greatest happiness two sentient beings can share." She smiled, her cheeks pink and her olive irises sparkling. "I realize that truth whenever you bless me with your company. I now know the reason for my struggle, for all the battles I've fought and will fight. I can finally look Allelujah in the eye and tell him what I've regained, with pride and gratitude. And my reason is you."

"Sweet girl, I do not deserve – "

To silence him, she drew closer and planted a soft, chaste kiss on the centre of his metal mouth, where he had exposed his more vulnerable facial region. His optic sensors widened at the organic contact, but she didn't even shy back. "If only I could protect you from the worst of humanity while giving you the best we can offer," she whispered, refusing to release him.

It was an innocent kiss, a kiss of surrender and trust and love. A kiss of friendship. It was a kiss that melted his spark as he clasped her closer and murmured his gratitude.

"You already have."

*

They spent lunchtime at a comfortable, air-conditioned café, where he ordered a club sandwich for himself and a strawberry parfait for Feldt. In addition to that, she chose to indulge herself (somewhat guiltily) in a blueberry and cream crepe, and to her relief, the rich food did not mute their conversation as they exchanged quiet words over their younger days and their friendships with the other members of Ptolemaios… from those that had survived through the years of war, to those that hadn't. They had both endured much grief and personal loss. Feldt's parents had been tragically stolen from her at an early age, whilst Setsuna's childhood had been sacrificed to Ali al-Saachez's exploitation and the religious fanatics that perpetuated the cycle of violence. Four years ago, they had lost three people dear to their hearts: Christina, Lichty, and the first Lockon Stratos, Neil Dylandy. He fulfilled the role of an older brother to the Gundam Meisters, and his death had dealt a particularly traumatic blow to Feldt. It had been most difficult to move on, but Neil himself would have disapproved of clinging onto the past.

"Change. Change in place of people like me, who couldn't change."

The topic of Lichty and Christina should have been enough to send Feldt into tears, but today was different. Certainly, there had been much blood shed four years ago. But she and Setsuna had both grown stronger. They no longer wept for Neil Dylandy, but remembered him as the Meister he deserved to be commemorated as – if not by anyone else, at least by Celestial Being.

To his own surprise, Setsuna's lips began to curl upwards ever so slightly as he bit into another portion of his sandwich, chewing quietly. Feldt blinked in surprise as she scooped up a spoon of whipped cream. "What's so amusing?" she asked, licking delicately at the dessert. Her jade eyes caught his drawn out gaze, and he quickly looked out the window beside him, staring at the young adults and teens that walked by the busy street.

"It's not amusement," he corrected her. "It's… something more. Do you remember when you first sent Neil Dylandy a letter to outer space?"

She blinked in surprise. "You remember our conversation when I went to Dynames…?"

"Yes." He set down his meal and looked back at her. "I also remember that you asked me if I had anyone to send a letter to."

She blushed. "You said 'no,' and I replied that it must have felt so lonely. I sometimes cringe when I remember how frank I could be."

"I still think about that question from time to time. And while I haven't found a definite answer, I'd say I'd like to send you and Marina Ismail a letter each," he decided, openly and honestly.

Despite her evident, silent pleasure, she shifted nervously. "I… wonder if I'm going to suffer Princess Ismail's ire because of that."

"She and I don't have that kind of – "

He paused, reprimanding himself silently. Had he forgotten already? Had he already forgotten the silken, cosy touch of her skin and hair? Marina's last visit to him had changed everything. In actual fact, he wondered what he would say on the next occasion they met. It would certainly be foolish to carry on as if nothing significant had passed between them. So he could not be dishonest. He had to acknowledge his emotions. Otherwise, he could never rise above it and change for the better.

Pleased, she shyly edged closer to him, sidling her body over the table. Setsuna didn't speak, but his thoughts were still troubled by the insectoid face of Starscream as she timidly rested her hand over his. He fell silent, looking away. He was glad for his darker, tanned skin. Then the smiling Feldt wouldn't see his blush. "I suppose if you were to ask me that question again as I am now, that would be my answer.

"That if I left Earth to travel in space, I'd… like to write you both a letter."

*

Night

Everyone had returned to Ptolemaios, and the crew would be lifting off from Mount Fuji in an hour or so to leave Earth again. While this particular day had provided much-needed rest, the call to duty was as strong as the pull of gravity itself. The return to space was imminent. Veda had to be recovered. The Innovators had to be stopped, and the imminent Decepticon invasion resisted. The distorted dialogues had to be rectified.

The halls of the spaceship were quiet, and only the command room was lively with activity. Optimus Prime had returned to the hangar bay, where his troops lounged about as usual. But there was something… even closer about the Cybertronians and humans after the day's events. The bond between them had reached new heights since Operation Lifebringer, and the strengthened camaraderie between the Autobots and the humans of Ptolemaios felt encouraging indeed.

There was only one portion Setsuna had left undone.

Marina hadn't locked the sliding doors to her bedroom with any manner of encryption code or identification. He wasn't surprised as he entered, his shoes tapping the metal floor noiselessly. Despite having been repeatedly betrayed by the governments of other countries, by antagonists in Azadistan itself, and being seized by the A-Laws and locked up like a stray dog… her heart remained so very pure, so trusting and unquestioning of those that promised her friendship. Perhaps those disillusioning experiences had enlightened her of her heart's innocence, but that didn't leave her cynical or hateful at all… merely wiser. Perhaps that emergent wisdom was what really fascinated him.

Still in his urban outfit, he glided into the darkness silently, like a protective shadow, towards the small bed on which she lay, breathing quietly and inconspicuously. Even in slumber, she maintained the demeanour of a princess, despite her true desire to be a humble but joyful musician. How did an aspiring piano player really end up as a troubled and isolated ruler of a struggling, war-torn nation? He did not truly know. In many ways, he wished the new world would relieve him of his need to know.

Underneath a thin blanket, she wore a thin, unpretentiously alluring white nightdress through which he could glimpse her rich, Persian complexion. He carefully seated himself beside her reclining form, returning the company she had given him and adjusting the blanket over her slender, bare legs to keep her bosom and willowy arms warm. And then, he simply gazed down at her, unsure of what to do. Perhaps there was nothing to do. Perhaps there wasn't even anything to say.

"Where have you been?" she mumbled, her voice soft with sleep. He tried to hide his surprise as she opened her cobalt eyes and looked up at him. She didn't bother to cover herself further – in fact, she nudged her blanket aside, permitting him to look upon her creamy, curvaceous body in its entirety. She did not stop him from glancing at her arresting, elegant physique for several moments before speaking again to reclaim his attention. "I… I hoped to play you the new song the children wrote. Were you not on the ship today?"

Their eyes kissed.

"I left for Tokyo with Feldt," he whispered apologetically, tentatively shifting to touch her forehead. Compelled by some tender instinct within him, he slowly stroked back her locks, and her eyes shut loosely in contentment. "You weren't supposed to notice me here. I'm sorry I awoke you."

She shook her head slowly, her lustrous raven hair draped across the pillow. She didn't need to ask him about the wounds Ali al-Saachez and Starscream had inflicted. She could tell, by his voice and by his hands, that he no longer felt any pain. "I am grateful you came," she replied, with a vaguely lonely sigh.

He lifted his hand away briefly, but relented when she opened her eyes, and he saw the slight disappointment reflected in her soulful irises. He returned to touch her, and several moments passed in silence as his caresses glided over her face. She moaned quietly in pleasure and quickly hushed herself in embarrassment. But his stalwart, affirming expression did not falter as his fingers trailed along her cheekbone. "Don't be afraid," he whispered earnestly, and although his voice was almost inaudible, the sheer conviction within it was enough to elicit a hot, devoted blush from her.

"Miss Grace is a good lady," she offered sincerely, as she reached up and clasped his hand.

"She thinks likewise of you," said Setsuna. "She always addresses you by your rank."

Her kindly, amused expression was all the inspiration he needed. It was his turn this time to draw down, inching closer towards her enraptured expression until her breathing warmed his face and animated his tired body with life.

"Please… Setsuna. May I know… what your feelings are of me?" she mumbled.

"I've already said… don't be afraid," he implored. "I don't want you to feel frightened or hurt anymore."

Her grip suddenly tightened around his palm, squeezing it with a desperate urgency. He took the princess's cue and closed his eyes, somewhat nervously. Slowly, he pressed his lips around her mouth for the very first time in a silent, humble kiss. The contact was hot, velvety, almost ticklish in its beguiling unfamiliarity. Oh, the privilege she had granted him, and the affirmation he had bestowed upon her…! She released a sharp breath of delight as their exchange deepened and as he tugged curiously at her wispy nightdress. Her hand scrabbled briefly at his chest before finding his shirt, pulling him onto her and into a warm, womanly, arousing embrace. Her eyes fluttered close once more, appreciative of his anxiety and his thumping heartbeat – for she had been so very afraid, too. No matter how firmly they entangled themselves amongst each other on her bed, no matter how beautiful she looked to him, she still worried, worried herself sick over nothing. Such was the guilelessness of the Azadistani royal, who moaned helplessly in the darkness of her room as her new, younger lover brushed his mouth over her flushed lips again and again, before discovering the repository of pleasure that was her smooth, lovely neck. Wrapping her uncovered legs around him protectively, she began to gasp her praise and confess her fascination, and he simply nodded in surrender, quite preoccupied with finding more of her treasures to kiss.

Throughout his childhood, he had scorned human emotions for the beatific vision of God. But his journey of violence resulted in nothing save the worst humanity could wreak upon the universe: malignant hatred, treacherous falsehood, and psychopathic self-destruction. No more. No longer did he shy away from the warmth and affection he had disregarded so unjustly. As he and Marina nestled in each other's arms, he silently swore that he would change for all the dialogues, in all their possibilities. He was changing for her. He was changing for humanity and for the Transformers. He was changing for Earth, and for Cybertron.

Even in love, he still yearned for the new aeon.

*

Anew Returner was troubled. Having taken off her shoes and her coat, she sat nervously at the edge of Lockon's bed in his small but cosy room. Her new boyfriend had entered the shower, and she impatiently waited for him to return with his fragrant scent, with his warmth and strong arms. But why had she been unable to answer him for so long? His questions about her family and her past… why did her head ache every time she attempted to recall her origins? Wild thoughts plagued her – perhaps she was an amnesiac. Or she may have suffered some sort of damage to her brain, to some lobe within.

What was happening to her?

She moved a slender hand to rub her forehead, closing her eyes regretfully. She felt fortunate that Lyle hadn't finished cleaning himself. She didn't want him to witness her like this.

He's tried to understand me, but I've given him nothing to work with. Trust must go both ways, girl.

Suddenly her eyes opened, and her usually melodious voice turned robotic, stern, and gracefully cold. Her irises shone no longer with a crimson shade, but with the quintessential luminescent radiance of Innovator quantization. She spoke mechanically, logically, and emotionlessly, and it was not she, but another entity that uttered his words through her body and her vocal chords.

"The difference between Innovator and human is like that of Heaven and Earth. The foolish, unevolved worldlings must be subjugated under a guide in order for it to survive. Those resistant to this reality will pass away with the old age, supplanted by a new epoch without mortal tears. I will demonstrate this beyond doubt in the final struggle to topple Celestial Being. Once they face destruction from within its own ranks and an apocalyptic war from without… "

Three hundred and eighty four thousand kilometres away, in his private study on board his secret command centre, a quantizing Ribbons Almark smiled, his golden eyes rippling as he reclined on his sofa. "… Celestial Being will fade into history for the sake of the world's salvation."