Many months have passed….
The darkness of night fell across the wreckage laid out in front of him. Time no longer seemed to have meaning for the solitary mech. Each battlefield he camped out at, he would stay at for countless day cycles. He would recount every detail of the battle in a steady voice, as if he was teaching a new group of soldiers the military history. Only the wind and rusted remains of blasted holes heard his words. But he continued to recount them. To discuss with himself the tactical errors made, as well as what went right as planned. He did this from both points of view. Both Autobot and Decepticon, as valuable lessons could be learned from the strategies used by both sides.
He would generally find what remained of a nearby building or bridge to defrag under. His defragmentation cycles were nightmarish, as the memory echoes from the battle he had re-lived that day, took over his dreams. Oftentimes, he woke himself up with his own screams. He'd hear them still echoing across the desolation as his optics activated. As he'd get up, he'd scan the ground around the entire battlefield for signs of a fully mature Guardian's thruster print. They were very different from those of Decepticons, and slightly different from those of the youngling Guardians who had yet to go through their various molts to maturity. So far, he had yet to find the thruster print he so desperately searched for.
Not too many clicks away from his position, a ghost haunted the area around an abandoned Decepticon base. Invisible optics switched from their normal red to a brilliant blue as the Wreckers who lived within her became every enraged as they looked upon the morbid displays of Autobot corpses impaled atop poles. Her entire airframe trembled with the intense emotions rocking through her every network. Tears began to stream down her face plate. Daring to wander up to the corpses, she reached up with a timid hand to touch one. Her touch became a tender caress as she grieved for the lost souls.
The Wreckers within her would not let her leave the deceased disrespected like this. Without a break, she spent several day cycles pulling them down. She would meticulously clean the corpse of each one to prepare him or her for their final resting place. Oftentimes spending astro hours painstakingly working her finest buffing brush into every crevice. She experienced memories of some of them. Memories of them that the lives within her had of them. Some of the echoes within her, forced her to pause in her preparation of a particular corpse. Hold it tightly against her for astr hours as she lovingly stroked their armor - as the echoes within her fully grieved the loss they now realized. Her optics never stayed dry as she cleaned each of the fifty or so corpses. Her tears gave them honor in their deaths. For someone should always grieve a mech's passing. In the Autobot culture, not to have been grieved over, meant that one's life had been meaningless.
Once finished properly preparing them, she would gently lay them out side-by-by with their arms bent and crossed over their hoods. The poles they had been impaled on, were then laid under their crossed arms, with the bottom at one of their peds and the pointed top over the opposite shoulder. It was as if they were soldiers carrying their spears as they faced death. Once she was done with one long row, she began to lay the next set of corpses out ped-to-ped with the first row. She positioned them just the same way with their arms crossed over the very spears that had impaled them. So from above it would appear that the two long rows of corpses had been facing each other as they died.
Now exhausted beyond measure, the Wrecker echoes finally released enough of their grip on her processors to allow the ghost mode Guardian to collapse next to the last corpse she had laid out in respect. Curling around the cold form of the long-dead Autobot seemed to give her some solstice. Running her hands along the surface of the corpse as if they'd once been lovers, she set her helm on what was left of his hood. Within her, a single Autobot ghost now ruled her meta. The ghost who had once been the corpse's bonded. Her optics went dark as she entered a brief period of rapid defragmentation. As her cloaking would never disengage, she was invisible to any living onlooker. She existed in the same realm as the thousand lives within her….
A solitary Autobot wandered by. His optics widened in disbelief as he viewed the large display of Autobot corpses. Counting the corpses at fifty two, he was at once awestruck at the dedication to their memory - as he was appalled at the ruthlessness of the Decepticons during the war. Wandering around the display, his sharp optics could see the tell tale signs of this having been a recently created display. Their armor was spotless. It was as if they'd been prepped and laid out just that day cycle! The way the bodies had been positioned by each other and with the long spears as if they still held them, had all the hallmarks of a Wrecker ritualized display of respect. "How many mechs did it take to create this display?" he asked the wind.
He searched the dirt and gravel around the display to look for clues as to the number of mechs in the rogue unit who had worked so hard to show respect for the dead. That's when he finally saw the one thruster print he'd been searching for - for almost half of Cybertron's orbit cycle! Kneeling down, he almost lovingly traced the unique thruster print of an adult Guardian femme. "Xenon…" he whispered almost reverently as his optics looked over the immense display. "You did… all of this.. Alone," he added in total awe. How long the processor locked femme had labored to do this for the honor of Autobots she had never personally known - boggled his meta processor.
Standing up again, he stood in proper military salute to the display for a long time. Xenon obviously had Wrecker memory echoes along with the multitudes of others within her. Wreckers who had obviously demanded that she perform this last rite for all those who now lay in front of him. Wreckers who had control of her while she did it. Slowly, he lowered his hand and went into proper military 'at rest' position. For if she was still nearby, and the Wreckers still in full control, they would fully expect him to give proper military homage to this display of honor.
Glancing around the silence around him, Ultra Magnus felt his determination renewed. This was solid proof to him - that she was still on Cybertron. It hadn't been that long since she'd been working tirelessly in this very spot! She was still solidly processor locked. But if he could find her while the Wreckers were in full control, their loyalty to him might be what he needed to get her to at least come out of ghost mode. Perhaps they had already caught sight of him? Perhaps they were already ghosting him? "Wreckers!" he yelled out as he turned a slow circle with his hands held out in the universal sign of peace. "Wreckers! I order you to uncloak!" He said this over and over. His spark beating frantically as he fervently prayed for an answer. Even if it was just the slightest of scrapes of invisible thrusters against a rock.
Eventually, he gave up. She had apparently already moved on. With renewed determination, his steps were a bit more sure as he continued on his way to the nearest battlefield site. It made logical sense that the ghosts within her - might have put her thrusters on the same path ahead of him. "I will find you Xenon," he promised the winds.
Her optics brightening behind her cloaking, Xenon came out of defrag and stretched her airframe against the side of the corpse. Gently lifting herself up on one elbow servo, the deceased's bondmate within her cried as she gave him a final kiss. The action of leaning over him like that, dislodged the spear in his arms. An onlooker could've easily spotted the movement. But as Ultra Magnus was already several clicks away, he never realized that he had actually been just a step away from the Allspark he so desperately searched for.
The blue faded from her optics. They began to turn darker and darker red as the Decepticons retook control of her processors. Standing up, she ignored the display she had worked so hard on for nearly a full week cycle. Transforming, she let her wings carry her to the nearest battlefield that still raged within her meta. A hot breeze from her thrusters rolled over the corpses now once again forgotten...
As he walked towards the nearby city. The destruction still so raw outside of the Guardian controlled quadrants weighed heavily on his meta. "I am part of what led to this destruction," he apologized to his beloved homeworld. Walking through another skeleton of a once thriving city, his sensitive audios picked up the scurrying of scraplets here and there. Scraplets who barely survived themselves. Rarely if ever found in big enough swarms to pose a danger to a healthy Cybtertronian anymore. "Even our pestilence lives at the edge of existence," he commented in a low, sorrow filled voice.
Looking up at the sky, the two moons hung low in the horizon, their surfaces lit by the dwarf star that Cybertron orbited around. Here and there a wispy cloud of condensed vapor could be seen. Clouds which had once been the colors of pollution from a thriving world. Now, the only factories running were in those Guardian quadrants. The Guardians had brought with them knowledge of how to capture that pollution, and recycle it into useful products. He sighed as he knew exactly WHICH Guardian had brought that knowledge with her. "Xenon, somehow you knew that you would one day need all of the scientific knowledge you could gather," he said to those pure natural clouds. "You were driven to obtain it. Driven to share it. Driven to use it to make the new Nation a better Nation than the ones it replaced."
The low rumble of distant thunder pierced his sensitive audio receptors. Glancing towards the north, he saw the dark line of an approaching storm system. Flashes of cloud to cloud lightning sought to reawaken the echoes of countless battles he had once been in. Shaking his helm slightly, he pushed them back from his active RAM. "When I was a young mech, I enjoyed watching storms roll in. The war has even ruined that simple pleasure for me," he told himself. "What do you see in these storms, Xenon? Do you see their natural power and beauty - or - like me, do you see the lazer fire and explosions of Cybertron's violent past?" Now that he knew she might still be around, he felt the need to directly talk TO her. Perhaps she was even close enough to hear his words? Perhaps they would help break the echo loops she was trapped in? He had to try anything that might help. Anything that might reach through the war she was trapped in...
Stopping his steps for a moment, he looked around at the ruins. His tactically minded processor calculating just how many places within those shells of skyscrapers that a ghost mode Guardian could be perched. Holding out his arms, he raised his voice so that his words would echo for many clicks. "You were driven to save my race. Yet, no one saw that in doing that, you were driven mad from the horrors of our past!" He listened as his voice echoed for a few astro seconds.
For a long time, he stood still, hoping against all hope to hear anything besides the scampering of scraplets, or the lonely wind. For so long, he had not seen any other mechs, except far in the distance. He had avoided most of them, just as the Guardians avoided him. With his decree unassigning Ultra Magnus from all duties within the shields of the Guardian controlled quadrants, Chromitron had effectively banished him - until the day cycle he located Xenon. Over the last few months, he had seen young Guardian squadrons training in the skies far above them. Had even seen Jetfire's unique shadow pass overhead. But none had dared to come close enough to him to speak with him. His journey was not meant to have company, unless it was the company of a lost Guardian Allspark. In a sense, he was now forsaken by the Guardians, just as he had once been forsaken by the Autobots when he had surrendered.
The loneliness did get to him sometimes. Often, he'd pause in his steps to look up at the Seekers as they passed overhead. His optics desperately trying to see if he spotted Telanium amongst them. He worried about the young, purple optic'd Guardian as much as he worried about her mother. The more he compared the two. The more he realized that Telanium had the same soft and gentle civilian spark that her mother had once had. A gentle spark that also was forced to go through the intense training to prepare for the rigors of wars - that were never of the Guardians' own making.
He hoped that the mature Guardians had learned from the mistakes made during Xenon's upbringing. That they would no longer seek to crush the civilian dreams within the young during that very training. The longer he had searched for her, the more he now understood that the very crushing those dreams had planted the seeds of Xenon's mental breakdown. "I will find your mother spark Telanium. I promise!" he had said numerous times as his optics had tracked the flight path of training flights far above him.
His spark ached to hold the young Guardian whom he now considered his adopted daughter spark. Contemplating on that emotion, Ultra Magnus's optics widened. He had never allowed himself to feel a deep emotional connection with any femme prior to her. As a soldier, he had always kept the fact that his next day cycle might be his last, in order to keep himself from ever getting that close. No, it was not romantic in any way shape or form. He truly felt love for her as a father spark feels towards his daughter. Well, at least that's what he thought it must feel like. No Cybertronian had yet to become a father spark in his dimension. So he was going off the sparklinks that he had witnessed between Xenon and her offspring. Offspring that were so numerous, he was amazed she could keep them straight.
Yet anytime one of them had come into the recovery room where he was taking care of their mother spark... Had come in with sadness in their optics over a perceived failure in training or test... He had watched as the drunk and obnoxious femme had suddenly morphed into a soft and caring soul. Had wrapped her arms around the sobbing youngster instead of berating them, as her father Megatron had likely done to her. He had seen this during her final astro minutes before processor lock. Her maternal instincts drove her to ignore her own crashing processor - to comfort a sparkling.
Telanium had changed him inside. Those months after her mother spark's disappearance, when she had sought him out after every one of her shifts. Her optics were always free of blame towards him. "You taught me what familial love is," he whispered to his memories of her, "You taught me what it means to be a family." He now searched for her mother spark not solely out of his responsibility to ensure the future of the Guardian Nation and the security that would bring to his own race - but out of his love for her daughter spark…. His now adopted daughter spark..
And chances were decent she might be his only daughter spark.. Ultra Magnus's optics scanned the wastelands of his world for the AllSpark Telanium so desperately needed to be reunited with. An Allspark who was likely to offline him - before he ever saw her coming. He knew this. In some ways he would welcome it. He sighed as he watched another training flight pass far over head. "You train to save us from our own violence," he murmured in almost a reverent tone.
His bearings squeaking in revolt, he finally started to walk again. Each step was either a step towards death - or a step towards finding her. They might even be steps towards one and the same fate. It no longer mattered much to the mech. He glanced back up at the sky as he continued on his path. Part of him now wondering about the certainty the Guardians all seemed to feel that their God Primus always directed their wings. That it was Primus in ultimate control.
He debated upon that idea of following a God's decree. It was as alien to the Autobots and Decepticons - as becoming actual parents and feeding directly off of starlight had been. Yet, the Guardians had brought those capabilities with them as well. "Perhaps there is much to be learned about their belief in you Primus?" Ultra Magnus asked the unseen God. "They truly have faith that they are never alone. That you are always with them." He considered that idea. To know you were never alone, would provide a sense of security to most mechs. "Even when the young femmes face the lessons that train them to survive and build a Nation in a strange dimension - they do it without fear of being alone."
Chromitron's words about Xenon's struggle through that training came to mind. "Even you did not fear being taken by Primus. What you feared was being considered a failure by your father," he said to the unseen femme. "And now, if you have moments of actual clarity, perhaps you now feel that you have failed your God." His voice broke a bit as he imagined how it would feel. Though did he HAVE to imagine it, when he had lived a similar experience right before his execution? When he had had the chance to stop the war by shooting Megatron in the back - and didn't. When he was certain that he had failed Alpha Trion. When he was murdered by the same hand that had murdered the greatest Autobot who had ever lived.
Yes, he had experienced the loneliness that had come with being forsaken by the Autobots. Those final day cycles of undergoing the torture with the full knowledge that no one was coming to save him - for he had chosen the path that led him there. "Do you now feel forsaken by Primus?" he asked the winds. "Do you now feel truly alone as you face the torment of a thousand lost souls?" He kept putting a ped in front of another as he spoke his true thoughts out loud. Something urged him to hold out his hands in the universal gesture of surrender as he walked. "You have not failed Primus, Xenon!" He yelled out. An emotion of certainty filled him then, from where it came - he did not know. "Primus has not forsaken us!" He yelled out in an even louder voice.
Invisible optics seemed to clear from the static that buzzed behind them. The ghost living out the memories of a thousand ghosts, deactivated the cannon she had aimed at the Commander. A Commander, who if killed, might end the war she still saw actively raging around her. Yet, he had made the gesture of surrender just as she was going to pull the trigger. It cracked the intensity of the echo she was locked in. The Decepticons within her, unwilling to trade their honor as warriors - for a quick kill. She was too far away from the Autobot Commander to hear his words. Perhaps he was yelling at the Autobots she saw fighting, to stand down? Perhaps to retreat?
Turning her head, she looked across the expansive city. A city she saw burning. She gasped for breath as the acrid smoke waifed around her. Obscuring her vision. Wreckers within her, once again fought for control, causing agony to roar through her processors. Her blade extended from one of her arms. Slowly slicing open the armor of one of her thrusters, she used the external pain to calm the internal pain. Another of countless marks across her armor that had been made by her own hand. The Wreckers quieted down - allowing the Decepticons to regain their total control. Deciding that it was time to regroup with the other Decepticons in her battalion, she transformed and flew north. To the Decepticon command center she heard calling for her.
The femme, still fully processor locked and in a totally different reality, made not a noise as she transformed and left the battle. Her intakes burned with remembered smoke. Her airframe hurt from all the lazer fire she had taken. The lazer fire that had in the true reality - been hailstones from the severe storms she had flown through on the way to the battle. Storms so violent that Seekers in their right mind would have steered clear of them. Xenon was far from in her right mind. The storms had been changed by the echoes to battles raging in the skies, of which she was part of. Aerial battles of extreme intensity which had lasted many astro hours. The fact that she'd actually survived the battle with the violent storm - was all due to the extremes that Guardian youngsters were put through during training.
Getting to the Decepticon post, she greeted the cons she passed. Then headed to the infirmary. Laying her exhausted airframe down on a table, she teased the con medic who was tending to her. Deactivating her optics so that she could enjoy a defrag in the company of old friends, her airframe went still. Though her cloaking was always on. Once locked in ghost mode, it never shut off. Silence filled the dark infirmary as she defragged. A silence that actually hadn't been broken by the voices of living mechs in eons. Only the ghosts kept each other company here. Ghosts that she was currently counted as one of…
Ultra Magnus eyed the bombed out entrance of the former Decepticon command center for that sector. The darkness beckoned him for some reason. As if something was pushing him to go in. Hearing the thunder getting closer to his location, he figured that it might be a good time to find some solid shelter. Turning on his headlamps, he strode into the ruins.
The center shook as the full force of the violent storm assailed it's weakened structure. Breathing a sigh of relief that he'd picked just the right time to bed down for the night, Ultra Magnus began to scavenge around for items which might make defragging a little more comfortable. He winced as another set of loud booms shook the very ground he was now preparing to hunker down for defrag upon. The thunderous booms trying to force his meta to be overcome by memory echoes of battle. Blinking his optic shutters a few times to clear the echoes from them, he forced them back into the recesses of his processors.
Finding some pieces of cushions here and there, he piled them up in the middle of the hallway leading to the outside entrance. Grunting as he sat down and began to arrange them to make it a bit more comfortable than he had been for half an orbit cycle, he felt like it was a night cycle to take it a tad easier. Since he now had the evidence that he was finally on the right track! He hoped that the positive emotions that his discovery had brought on, would help him overcome a defrag cycle that might be challenging. He cringed as another ground rumbling crash of thunder flowed all around him. "I hate fearing the sounds of nature," he said aloud. As much for himself to hear - as possibly a ghost mode Guardian to hear. "The echoes change them into sounds of war within my processors," he admitted to the dark, empty hallway.
Pulling himself out a half shot cube of his green energon, Ultra Magnus slowly sipped it as he listened to the fury of the storms outside. He winced with each boom of thunder. His meta praying that Xenon was not out in it. That somehow her instincts of survival would protect her even as her processor was locked in the echo loops. Hoping to keep himself calm during the storm, he began to play the music files that Telanium had given him. The soft dark melodies of Xenon's most private recordings began to waif through the empty corridors of the abandoned command center.
Her sad songs seemed to rip right through him. Songs so vivid in their descriptions of the places and times - but also in the depth of emotion felt by those she spoke of. Leaning back against the cushions he had found and stacked behind him, Ultra Magnus let those sad songs lull him into defrag… Let those songs mask the violence just outside those walls.. Eventually, the file ran its course. Once again, only the sounds of nature and the flashes of lightning illuminated the abandoned facility.
His defrag cycle was restless. Memory echoes now unleashed to ravage his processors. He cried out with every loud boom of thunder. His dreams now nightmares of the battles he had lived.. Of the friends he watched die.. Of friends he had ordered to their deaths.. He writhed in remembered agony. His helm going from side-to-side as he groaned from the pain of his past injuries..
The ghost activated her optics. Something felt out of place. Glancing around at the infirmary, she nodded to some of the other patients as she slipped off of the exam table and headed for the door. Her airframe still stung in a million places, but that's how it felt when a Seeker made it through a barrage of anti-aircraft fire. Silently wandering the dark halls, in her meta she saw them as brightly lit. Nodded in greeting to Decepticons who passed her. Heading towards the entrance, she heard the sounds of battle. Could even feel it through the ground in her thrusters. Beginning to run towards it, her invisible optics gleamed in the battle lust of hundreds of Decepticons within her. Almost there…
She slid to a stop as her optics fell on the most unlikely mech to be laying across the hall, blocking her easy way out. Warily, she backed away from him, her cannons powered up and locked on him. She stood there for a long moment, the echoes refusing to truly release their grasp. Every Decepticon within her on high alert as she stared at the Autobot Military Commander. He seemed to be being tortured. Writhing on the ground in front of her thrusters, he groaned in apparent agony. The echoes within her now changed a bit. Now added damage to his chassis… Added electro cuffs around his wrist servos.. Breathing out, the ghost convinced herself that he must've been taken as a prisoner. That higher ups than her were now torturing him. Powering down her weapons system, she stepped over him - and ran headlong back into the chaos outside.
Groaning a bit as the tendrils of the nightmarish defrag slowly released their grip on him, Ultra Magnus stretched out his linkages. "Storms are still going strong," he mumbled to himself as he slowly forced himself to sit up. Right now, the area he was in, seemed to be getting a break from them. Though he could hear them all around. "Looks like I'll be walking in the rain today," he said with a sigh of resignation. He could not take a day of rest until he found her. For he knew that the echoes within her weren't likely allowing HER a day cycles of rest either.
His core heavy, he decided to don the cloak that he had brought with him. Long ago, Alpha Trion had taught him that to don such a cloak was a sign of humility. To cover one's helm showed respect for the ancients. That's why Alpha Trion often wore one. Also to walk to a far away destination instead of driving - tested the endurance of a mech's mind. So with a determined sigh, Ultra Magnus began the long walk to the next battlefield. Even driving, it would take several day cycles while dodging the potholes and debris. Walking in bot mode might take weeks. But what did time matter to him anymore? Pulling the hood over his helm as the thundering storms overhead finally unleashed the rain, his optics glowed as he continued to steadily place one ped in front of the other.
He walked for astro hours in the violent storm. Although he continued to describe how the areas he walked through had once been, and how they'd been destroyed, no one could have heard him above the din of the storm - had there been someone listening. But yet, he continued. This was his atonement. He must relive every moment.. Every detail.. As he walked and told his stories, his optics scanned everything in front of him. Looking for any more signs of a ghost mode Guardian.
The Decepticons whispered inside her meta as she began to track the Autobot Military Commander. Old orders of following him in the hopes of discovering the Autobot's new headquarters - rang in her audios. She darted around him. Her weapon's systems activated, just in case he discovered her. He was one of the most dangerous of Autobots for any lone Decepticon to track. His personal kill record matched by few others. Her entire airframe was tense as she ducked behind buildings as she tracked him. If he realized a Decepticon scout was tracking him - the ghosts within her knew he would kill them...
He thought he spotted something not quite right. Not daring to show any signs of awareness, he continued walking and storytelling in the rain. Letting his optics seem to naturally stray back to where he'd finally spotted something. Sure enough, the heavy rain was exposing the outline of the cloaked Seeker. He almost messed up and paused as he realized it. Saving himself, he continued to act as if he hadn't noticed anything, but he kept his peripheral vision locked on her. Sure enough, she darted around him, obviously keeping him in her sights.
Stepping carefully in the rain, the Decepticon ghosts continued to dart from one building to another as they tracked the powerful Autobot. But whispers of other ghosts kept intruding. Wrecker ghosts who viewed him as the leader they were loyal to. These other ghosts battled for control of her processor. Not able to gain full control, they settled for control of her battle processor. Forced her weapons systems to disengage. So even as the Decepticons continued to track him - the Autobot Wreckers made sure she was not currently a threat to his life..
His mood actually lifted a bit as she hadn't attacked him outright. Though by the way she was tracking him, she was far from ready for contact. He considered how the Guardians referred to this mode as Ghost mode. It was a very fitting description for how she was tracking him. He wondered just how long she had been ghosting him. Perhaps since he had visited the memorial display that she had built? Though he was wary of her, he figured she should've attacked him by now - if she was going to kill him. So perhaps there was a chance in both of them coming back alive?
Now that he was certain he had found her, he found himself doubting his resolve. He had stormed out to the wastelands almost certain that he would die in his attempt to bring her back. Certain that he would give his life as his atonement for his leading her on. Since she hadn't attacked him in absolute rage, he was left with wondering what the future might hold for him - if they both survived this. Looking down at the ground, he continued to walk through the violent storm. His peripheral vision still watched her rain outlined invisible shape as she tracked him.
Telanium's words came to his meta 'something told her that you would be the one - to make her whole' He let out a sigh as he considered those words. They now explained so much of her mother's behavior towards him. For some reason the femme hadn't felt whole. Had likely never felt whole. Perhaps it had begun long before her wings ever felt the wind from his dimension's Cybertron. He didn't know. Yes, at the time he had felt nothing but annoyed and harassed by Xenon. But now, in the months he had wandered alone and delved deep in his meta, he had actually realized that he missed her. He missed those obnoxious teasing things she had purposefully done to drive him to glitches. He missed being the center of someone's life..
His optics widened a bit as he considered that last thought. He HAD been the center of her life! He had been her sole focus.. The only reason she had hidden the mental torment she was in.. The reason she had kept functioning.. Glancing at her darting outline as she moved around him in the pouring rain, he realized she would have likely processor locked much sooner - had she not been so focused on trying to get him to come around to her. Renewed guilt flowed through him. Continuing to place one ped in front of another, he began to wonder what his endgame really was. How was he hoping for this to turn out?
He grunted under his breath as he stumbled a bit. The layer of runoff water now obscuring uneven ground. Alpha Trion had always preached that before one began a mission, one should always have several end games already planned out. His end game had honestly been not to survive. Now that he was faced with the prospect that he might not die, he needed to come up with a new end game or two. He glanced at the rain silhouetted ghost mode Guardian.
As if answering his thoughts, Telanium's words again came to him 'Maybe somehow you can trigger that emotion in her again. Maybe it's what is needed to break through the pain?' He hummed under his breath at that. If he did try to directly trigger those passionate and desperate emotions in Xenon - he'd bet that she'd crash even harder if he rejected her affections again. It would likely kill her. In his spark, he knew it was his duty to Cybertron to give the AllSpark what she so obviously needed. But would either of them be happy in a relationship based solely on duty - and nothing else? Would having him physically bound to her but emotionally distant - make her whole?
He knew the answer was no. The more he remembered how many long and drawn out conversations he'd forced her to have - as her optics took his armor off in her meta. She had been desperate to do whatever he had demanded, in order to try to convince him to want her. Shame flowed through him as he remembered how often he had forced her to do many things that she really didn't want to - just because he had known how strongly she wanted him. It was plain to anyone's optics that she would not be fully satisfied without having all of him. She had wanted his mind to want her. It was an all or none situation. Pure and simple. If his plan was to again trigger that deep need for him within her - he had better be willing to fully follow through.
His sense of duty battled with his aversion to relationships. He had once thought that soldiers shouldn't have loved ones to miss them when they died in battle. Yet now, the only battles on Cybertron were within their own processors. So that argument no longer held true. He had also avoided relationships because of the darkness he knew that he'd have to share. Now, he faced helping guide a femme through a darkness so great - that it was like a blackhole compared to his small cavern. Once again, that argument was now null and void. He had no arguments left for himself to continue to avoid relationships.
Could he make himself focus on the side of her that he actually had found attractive - and ignore the obnoxious drunk side? Perhaps with treatment, she might no longer have that obnoxious drunk side? If that side of her disappeared - could he develop a deep emotional connection to her? What if he couldn't bring himself to be open physically to her? He was so used to denying his networks. Used to refusing to allow himself to feel any passion in that way. Those would be very hard habits to break.
He sighed again as he continued to slog through the flooded streets. His optics still kept track of her outline in the rain. He was so conflicted in what he was willing to truly offer her - if he survived this. It was not fair to her to lead her on again. Could he possibly work a deal with her where if she gave him time - he'd do his best to get over his natural inhibitions? He played out such a scenario with the old Xenon of his memories. Yes, the old Xenon might've been satisfied with a direct agreement like that. He might even convince her to seek out treatment as her part of it. Then perhaps he wouldn't have to deal with the drunk side of her much. He could see more of the sober, soft and caring side of her. His optics brightened a bit as he decided THAT would be his end game. He didn't know how far it would end up going. But if they started with an honest deal and stayed honest - he wouldn't be leading her on.
As darkness began to fall, he searched for some type of shelter from the storms that had been battering him all day. Pausing at one half-collapsed building, he pulled out a shot cube, over filled it with the blue energon, and left it there as a peace offering. He hoped the femme would understand it for what it was. He knew right now, he could use her dependence on it, to help calm her down. Perhaps use it to help her break through the processor lock. Her dependence would also cause her to continue tracking him - as he would now become her supplier.
Moving onto the next remains of a building, he made sure to settle down on the opposite side of it. That way the femme would know he'd purposefully made his offering out of his line of sight. Taking off his waterproof cloak, he balled it up to lean his helm back on as he settled into a seated position with his back plating against a supportive beam. Bending his knees, he poured himself a half shot of green energon, then curled his arms around his knee servos. Sipping his half shot, he decided that he now needed to really come clean about his own personal failures as a mech - in relationships. He needed to begin to set the stage for his future end game. So he continued to discuss things as if he was telling friends. The flashes of lighting lit up his faceplate as he spoke truthfully about his lack of relationship success as a young mech. Some of the many reasons he had pushed every femme away. It was as much for her to hopefully hear, as it was for him to finally accept it himself.
Eventually, he allowed himself to drift off into restless defrag. His helm leaned forwards onto his knees as he kept his arms locked around him. This was how soldiers in the field defragged. They made themselves the smallest targets possible. As he was now reliving his past.. He was now that young soldier again..
Invisible optics watched him place that shot of blue energon in the first building. Her glossa licked her dry lips as her core longed for the blessed relief that she knew it would give. The echoes cracking a bit as the allure of the blue energon renewed the overwhelming physical need for it. A physical addiction not found in any of the Cybertronian memories which had controlled her for so long. Only Guardians could truly get addicted to the sweet numbness of the blue energon. Xenon's consciousness was finally able to somewhat break through the processor lock, as she focused on the drug she could not live without.
Circling the area cautiously, she instinctively made sure there were no traps set. Then she warped over to it, downed it in a single gulp, and quickly warped to a different location. Once a Guardian's meta had acclimated to full ghost mode, every move was calculated yet instinctive. She paused for many astro minutes, crouching as the delicious numbness began to flow over her networks. A blessed numbness that she hadn't felt in almost a full orbit cycle. The thousand ghosts within her, seemed to lower their demands to whispers. Though not fully broken out of the echo loop, no single group of ghosts could gang up and fully control her while the blue energon coursed through her airframe.
Her new position had been a story above Ultra Magnus in the very same wreck of a building. With the instincts of a silent predator, she ended up perched almost right above him. Her audios catching every word he uttered. Though she recorded it all, she did not consciously listen to it. Her processors were still too fragmented by the many groups of ghosts who fought for full control of it. After he had finally drifted off into defrag, she hopped silently down right next to him. Her laser cannon aimed at point blank to his helm as the Decepticons within her demanded his execution...
Yet, something deep inside her refused to allow her weapons systems to engage. The loyal Wreckers within her joined with that deep connection. Strengthened it. Used it to keep a strong lock on her weapon's systems. She stood there with her inactivated cannon mere centimeters from his helm - her chassis rock still. Narrowing her invisible optics in confusion, Xenon attempted to understand the conflicting emotions rolling through her networks. These soon blended with another round of the memory echos. Memory echos that in many of the lives she now re-lived over and over - had this very mech as one of the central figures. She must've stood there for astro hours as she battled within herself. Though the battle was not as difficult as it had once been. The blue energon surged through her systems.. Calming her… Giving her a smidgen of control..
Finally lowering her cannon from his helm, she blinked her optics shutters a few times. Her knife extended from one of her arms. First she set the point of it on his helm. The agony raging inside her. The memory echoes demanding to make him feel the pain of their deaths. She trembled a bit as she finally pulled the blade from his helm, and instead cut the armor of her other arm. The external pain somehow made the internal pain more bearable. Energon dripped from her wound as she looked to the stormy sky. As she silently cried out to Primus to make it all end!
Warping away from Ultra Magnus, she found another building to go through a rapid defrag in. Unlike Cybertronians, who often required a minimum of six astro hours for a full cycle. Guardians had the ability to go through a rapid cycle of under just two astro hours. This is how they survived as spies and saboteurs. Where to be caught defragging often meant death. Balancing on her thrusters in a crouched position, she too wrapped her arms around her knees as she lay her helm down on them. Her cloaking stayed fully engaged as she initiated the cycle.