Chapter 52
Optimus ran.
He paid just enough attention to his surroundings to avoid stepping on the few humans that called the autobot base home. His optics were open, searching. An explosion somewhere on the other side of the main building shook base and rapidly filled the hallways with black, thick smoke. Primus...what happened?
Jazz came stumbling out of the mess. His visor flipped up to stare at the taller with wide optics, "Optimus! Demonas gone slagging crazy! She's blowin' holes right through base!"
The fact that he wasn't using the accent he'd picked up from the earthlings was enough to tell Optimus how serious things were. Optimus started, "Jazz, find Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. They may be the only ones that can keep up with her. Do what you can to stop her, but do not offline her!"
"Yes, Prime!" Jazz dropped and shifted forms in a liquid smooth motion, hitting the floor and taking off to hunt down the young front liners. Optimus kept running, spark squeezing so tight in his chest that it pulsed with pain. How could this happen? Demona is...she's not supposed to be this way!
'She's heading towards the exit!' Ironhide shouted over the public link. Mudflap chimed in, 'YO! This chicks be friggin' CRAZY!'
'Ironhide, follow her! Don't let her leave!' He ordered. If what Alex and Paradox says is true, she is a danger to everyone...
His spark clenched again when he realized this. Demona had been an autobot for little over six human years, but she had quickly become one of his best. She was a hard worker with a good, strong, merciful spark. When he had asked her to return to base to help him locate injured mechs, he could tell that she wanted to refuse for the sake of staying with her human family...but she left them anyway. She put her family and her faction first, always.
Despite her heritage and the way she was raised, many of his soldiers had grown attached to her. Ironhide had come to trust her like an old comrade, and had even posted himself beside her in battle once or twice before. Ratchet had come to actually enjoy her company in his med bay, even though the old medic would never admit it. Jazz treated her like a good friend. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe actually respected her as a warrior now, after she had saved their lives on the field. Several other younger mechs looked up to her, Bumblebee among them.
In the short six years she had been with them, she had proved herself time and time again, and he had been proud of her. But it seemed like the young femme he'd come to love as his own creation was gone.
No. The thought was harsh in his processor, we can save her. She will come back to us...
Optimus was forced to stop when the wall on his right exploded outward, and the very source of the destruction stepped through. Deadly scarlet optics fixated on him, gleaming claw blades spun as if in hunger. Optimus could only stare, frozen in place. He struggled to come up with an explanation for what he was seeing...
This was not Demona.
This was Megatron.
It was Demona's body, Demona's weapons. But it was her mech creator's hate, his thirst for energon and revenge. You were supposed to be different.
Optimus narrowed his optics when she shifted one of her hands into a cannon and raised it to his chest, the barrel lighting with a crimson glow. He knew that she was still there somewhere, buried beneath it all. He could feel it in the core of his spark. So he did something he hadn't done for years.
He reached through the bond, as strained as it was, took firm hold of her spark, and pulled.
She flinched.
"Demona," he tried, "I know you're still there. Fight it, youngling. This is NOT who you are."
He pulled harder, determined to find her. The cannon was still raised, but the glow had begun to fade. Then, something changed in her optics.
The color seemed to dull, and her optics became full of a crushing agony. His frame tensed when he felt the lightest brush of her spark in response, like she was trying to reach back. One whisper touched him, nearly stopping his spark.
Before he could react or respond, the murderous wrath snapped back into place and she shot away with a snarl. Optimus watched her go, repeating the phase she'd spoken over and over again in his processor; "Help me."
:(
Hope you guys enjoyed. Much love...
Demona and her family belongs to me. Transformers does not.
