A/N: Hey, guys. So sorry for not posting for a while. I've been feeling kind of crummy lately, and kind of lost motivation to do the story. That, and I couldn't for the life of me, figure out how to write this Chapter out. But, I'm finally brining it to you. So, Delta has all of his memories back, yay. And of course, Primus couldn't be bothered to give him his memories back in order. Lame, dude. Lame. But, he's healed up and everything, and will now learn how to use his superpowers (which they totally aren't, but it makes me happy to think of them like that). So, this Chapter. Hope you enjoy.
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers in any shape or form. I only own the story and any and all OCs in said story. If there's someone you're not familiar with, it's probably an OC.
PLEASE COMMENT! I NEED CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM TO MAKE MY STORIES (PRESENT, FUTURE, OR OTHERWISE) BETTER!
Delta steps into the Training Room, relieved at finally being free of the Medic Duo's grip. He smiles at the sight of Megatron going through fighting moves, the silver Mech the only one in the room. Every once in a while, a hologram would appear, only to disappear under the swing of his blade.
"Having fun?"
Megatron pauses, a smile sliding onto his face.
"Delta. I see you have managed to escape."
Delta chuckles, stretching his arms above his helm. He was still slightly sore, a twinge of pain running through his back. But he was healed.
"Yeah. I had to swear I wouldn't push myself."
Megatron chuckles as well.
"Just as well, you worried us all with that stunt of yours. Being hurt like you were and then gaining abilities no one has heard of before will do that."
Delta shrugs, casually swinging his arm, combat knife held in a loose grip. The hologram rushing him sparks away, another one soon appearing.
"I still think they worry too much. I'm fine. Even if I'm basically a superhero now."
Megatron says nothing, the two of them focusing on the hologram fighters that begin to increase in number, moving faster as the system detects a second form entering the sparring ring. The two work in tandem, watching each other's backs—how they always worked when sparring together.
Delta feels his body relax as the two of them fight, his spark soaring at the familiar feeling. He ducks a swing, throwing his arm out. He narrowly misses the form's torso, only for it and two others to fly backwards, hitting the far wall of the Training Room and disappearing in a shower of sparks. He blinks. Standing up straight, he looks down at his servos. There was nothing there, but…what was that? Some kind of energy?
Concentrating on the feeling he'd just had, he vents deeply. There's a warmth in his servos, and then, it explodes outward. He stares at the balls of what he could only describe as white fire in his servos, the flames gently licking his armor. But he didn't feel any pain. Only warmth. He doesn't hear Megatron stopping the holograms, doesn't hear him raising his voice, trying to get him to answer. His only focus was those little flames, flickering as if tiny sparks beating. His vision is filled with that white light, the light getting brighter and brighter, as if wanting to consume him. But he wasn't scared. Suddenly, there's a flash, his vision becoming dark.
Delta blinks rapidly, before looking around at his surroundings. There was golden light pulsing softly around him. It was kind of…comforting, but weird at the same time. There was just one problem…
Where is he?
Then, there's a chuckle, "We were curious when you would show up."
He whips around, his optics widening as he slowly looks up…and up…and up, finally meeting the kind blue optics of a gold, silver, and white Mech. The being towered above him. Delta was rooted to the spot, unable to barely even vent.
"So…" he finally manages to squeak out, "I'm gonna go out on a very big limb here…Primus?"
Another chuckle.
"Close. I am Prima, the first Prime."
Suddenly, he begins to shrink down, soon slightly taller than Megatron. Now that he wasn't towering above him, Delta found himself being more comfortable around the larger Mech.
"Um…nice to meet you?" he blinks. "Wait, did you say 'we'?"
He feels a harsh vent on his neck, his plating flaring out slightly. He slowly turns, only to be greeted with dark golden optics and a maw full of razor-sharp fangs. Yelping, Delta lashes out, stumbling back with wide optics. Instinct told him to get away as fast as he could.
The beast's helm stays turned to the side, not registering the slap at first. He finally recovers, turning back with a growl. There's the sudden sound of loud laughter, a smaller Mech with mismatched body parts bent over cackling. Tears poured down his faceplate as he nearly collapses to the ground.
"You…" he gasps, "Y-You should've…seen your face, Onyx!"
He finally manages to recover, wiping the tears away before walking over to Delta, slinging an arm over the gold-colored shoulders.
"Not bad, kid. Ten-out-of-Ten slap—truly beautiful. I told Onyx he shouldn't have gotten so close, but he didn't listen. Name's Amalgamous. I'm the Shifter Prime. Nice to meet you."
Delta simply blinks, taking in the form next to him. This guy is a Prime? If anything, he kind of acted like Smokescreen—though the rookie had gotten a lot better since joining up with Team Prime. But still.
"Amalgamous, what did we say about personal space? Stop crowding the poor boy."
The pressure leaves his shoulders, Delta turning and meeting the optics of a gold and silver Femme toting a massive hammer. She smiles in greeting, moving to place herself next to a Mech with a similar color scheme, a grouping of bronze gears on his chest.
Delta watches as more Mechs slowly appear, gathering in a semi-circle around him. More and more, until there's twelve bots in a circle surrounding him.
"Why…why am I here? Where is here? What's going on?"
"All in due time, young Guardian." Prima says, optics soft. "But we will say this: there is a reason we wanted to speak."
Delta's vision slowly begins to come back, a form of orange and white in front of him. A bright light shines flashes in his optics, and he groans, sluggishly lifting a servo to swat at it.
"Fraggit, Ratch…turn the settings down on that thing." He mumbles, relieved when it moves.
Why did he suddenly feel so tired? He could feel himself leaning against something, a pair of servos on his shoulders, keeping him up. His blurred vision begins to clear, showing he was still in the Training Room, slumped against a familiar silver form.
"Are you alright, Delta? You were unresponsive for almost thirty minutes." Megatron says, worry in his optics.
Delta briefly closes his optics, groaning again. He lifts a servo, placing it on his helm.
"I…I think so. But what happened? The last thing I remember was…learning I was basically the Cybertronian equivalent of a friggin' superhero. Everything after that is…it's all kinds of blank."
Megatron and Ratchet share a look, neither Mech saying anything. Finally, Ratchet looks back at him.
"Delta, you know how we've been monitoring you for when your powers emerge?" at the nod, he continues. "Megatron called me, frantic. He said that you went into some kind of trance when your powers came to the surface. Then suddenly, you collapsed and nearly met Primus himself."
"Not Primus." Delta finds himself saying, his memories coming back in one big flood. "I…I met the thirteen Primes."
"What? How is that possible? Only a Prime himself can meet them."
Delta feels his strength returning, slowly but surely.
"Look, I know it sounds crazy, but I did. They said that…that I was Primus's vessel, and because I have a piece of his spark, that makes me some kind of, I don't know, honorary Prime or something along the lines of that."
The two share a look. A Prime, who was not a Prime?
"Look, I know that sounds crazy, but it's true. They said even though I don't have the Matrix, that because I have a piece of Primus's spark, I'm a Prime. It doesn't make sense, but that's what happened." Delta says, his pounding helm decreasing to a dull throb.
Finally, Ratchet speaks.
"I think…we should talk to Optimus about this."