It was cold and dark. Energon swirled around and around. Thin digits reached and fell, learning to work. Pedes kicked, working towards the source of light. Strong servos grabbed and pulled, straining until there was nothing but air.

The Well.

Oh, the Well. The birthplace of all life on Cybertron before the War, before Cybertron became a planet of death. It was a pool with a tube running from it to Primus. According to legend, Primus sends a little spark on a journey, and on that journey up the tube, the Thirteen Primes work on it, shaping the spark into a sparkling and then a fully operation piece of equipment ready to ship out and place in a caste.

This New Spark was pulled out during the time data clerks are usually plucked, and it seemed extra fortunate he was pulled by the Master Archivist, Alpha Trion himself. How fortunate indeed, that the mech Primus chose to lead the future land in the lap of one of his own original Primes.

The thin frame was turned over and over in the Energon, making sure the joints were well lubricated and his systems were full of the Energon he would have to run on for the first few weeks of his life.

He would have to earn every drop after this.

And Alpha Trion made sure he had a fighting chance.

The frame was thicker than most, which was never a good sign unless the frame was pulled into the gladitorial caste. A thick frame meant extra weight, and could have to do with a system malfunction, resulting in his systems over-producing and the eventual death of the framework before his life could truly begin.

But of course, he was never mourned if he died that soon. He was just replaced. There were always replacements.

"Mech, can you stand?"

The processor of the frame was visibly working. Any armor around the processor would have to be placed there manually. This easy access to the processor was fortunate for seeing if the frame was alive or defective, in which case it could be easily saved.

Or easily killed.

Alpha Trion pulled the frame onto its pedes. "Awful big for a data clerk," he remarked. But as New Sparks learned, "no take-backs", meaning what was done is done, and it's best to move on.

The frame watched the mech, and it was there in the pool it took its first steps, slowly first, as all frames do, but then faster and faster, learning and experiencing.

Its first steps out of the pool were also slow, but he recovered faster than normal.

This frame is above-average, Alpha Trion thought. What does ol' Primus have in store for Cybertron?

Along with being beyond expectations, the frame was exceedingly intelligent, learning through others and making connections remarkably fast.

"Chest," the frame mumbled, tapping the new armor there to cover the spark.

"Good."

"Pedes."

"Excellent."

The medical exam also went good, and instead of the slow drone of a medic's voice, who had examined frames a thousand times before, earned gentle teasing and jokes.

"Are you sure you haven't done this before, Orion?"

"This is my first time, of course, medic, sir."

"Just 'sir'."

"Sir."

"Very good."

His life would be easy, as most data clerk's lives are, but it wouldn't be without entertainment. News would have to be sorted. Daily events would have to be cataloged. Who would do that if there were no humble data clerks to spring to attention the instant someone else walked in?

Because everyone out-ranked a data clerk.

They all learned to accept that, taking the good with the bad.

Good: data clerks were less likely to die.

Bad: they were not allowed in most amusement parks, entertainment centrals, and shops.

Good: they were permitted into various Record Halls without question.

Bad: they were not permitted a lot of recovery time.

"What are you doing that you need more than a few hours of sleep?! You're just pressing buttons for Primus' sakes!"

But the glare of the screens on new optics weakened them, and many a mech had gone blind before, but still managed to at least tap a button on command. One worked next to Orion, never giving the mech a moment to work for the first day or even the first week, but gradually the New Spark was pulling both him and the other mech forward.

No one even knew the difference, not even when the blind mech eventually died, not until there was the yearly inspection.

"Where is the mech that works beside you?"

"He died a year ago, sirs."

"Why didn't you tell anyone? We could have gotten a replacement."

"I would rather have done his work myself, sirs."

"Next time, tell someone."

"Yes, sirs."

Even though he had tried to tell someone, anyone. They didn't even remove the wasted frame. Orion disposed of it himself, laying the body in the Well as he had learned to do through research. The material was reabsorbed.

There was no sign of the mech within minutes. That morning, a New Spark was pulled out of the Well, identical to the mech that Orion recommitted to Primus.

He was assigned as a reporter.

Orion tracked his progress, opening a side-project he was not allowed to have and would surely get punished for having.

He never was found out.

As the years droned on, Orion regularily had new optics to sport, until the cost of getting them went way out of reach.

"Where are you putting all these optics, Orion?"

"In my helm, of course, sir."

"Of course. How silly of me. This is the last pair you'll get for free, no matter what the law says. I run a business here, Pax. I'm sure you understand."

"Of course, sir."

But of course Orion, some days, had done the job so many times he could keep his optics closed to preserve them as long as possible, until visible wear became apparent.

Alpha Trion himself then marched young Orion Pax down to get new optics, and the medic was very obedient.

"Come by anytime, Pax, of course."

"Thank you, sir!"

Orion thought he had gained a friend in the medic, but Alpha Trion was less certain.

"He fears me."

"But why, sir?"

"Because he knows what I am."

"The Master Archivist? You must hold a lot of power, Alpha Trion, sir."

The mech laughed then, almost hysterically, then calmed down and shook his helm. "I used to, Pax...I really did."

It was around that time that Megatron rose in the Pits of Kaon, and so it was that Orion opened another side project.

Again, he was never found out.

Never.

It came to a time that Orion almost regretted that choice to follow the gladiator, but he died without regret.

The war sparked over a feud of who should be Prime, either the gladiator or the librarian.

It was similar to the fight going on now.

In the end, the data clerk succeeded in earning the title of Prime and the Matrix of Leadership along with an enemy.

Starscream took a step back from the vision, shaking his helm. "Why are you showing me this?"

Optimus appeared beside him, as young as he had been in the beginning of the war. The Matrix pinged in a friendly way, but Starscream knew the Matrix was with Rodimus. It still liked the Seeker for unknown reasons.

"Because you needed to see it."

"Your life story?"

"My life story is not important anymore. I have faded from the attention of others. It is Rodimus that they look to now. No, I showed you this tale because you needed to know that the little guys have giants on their sides."

"No offense, mech, but the last giant we had was Metroplex, and he's buried under the whole of Iacon."

"I was referring to the Primes. Even thought they grew smaller as the time went on, they are still much bigger than your enemy right now. The major fault in Astatine is that he does not believe, and not even I could persuade him otherwise, not even if I marched into Iacon and gave him a stern lecture."

"So...what?"

"You have a hundred percent of the votes in Iacon and in the Realm. Even Nova would never walk by Astatine."

Starscream sighed and summoned a chair for him to sit on, cupping his face. "But...I don't..."

"Starscream, do you remember what my alt mode was for the grand majority of thirty-five human years?"

The Seeker mumbled, "a semi."

"Yes. And what was the worst thing for someone to do."

"Drive beside you?"

"Why?"

"Because your stupid tires had this annoying habit of exploding, that's why. Why are you quizzing me?"

"Astatine has a lot of weight to carry on his little tires, and eventually, he's going to explode. But so do you. You also have a lot of weight to carry on tires, and someday you will explode. The people that stand beside you are in danger of that."

"Are you saying that I'm not fit? That neither of us are fit?"

"I am suggesting that bots are being careful of which candidate they stand beside...you don't know the future, Seeker. You only know the past."

The Prime launched them into a war scene, a New Spark struggling out of the Well on its own to find itself staring down the barrel of a gun. Starscream had to look away. He knew this scene all to well.

The shooter was he, searching for something to destroy and finding the little New Spark, alone and scared. He also found it aggrivated him into murder.

"Your darkest hour."

"You kept saying that Primus would save me from my darkest hours, no matter who or what I was! Where was he, Optimus, huh? Where was he right there?"

Optimus turned his helm to see and the Seeker stopped speaking.

Rodimus.

Rodimus had tackled him and had told him off with his words rather than his fists, though Starscream begged him to.

It was that day that Starscream was taken prisoner and fed for the first time in weeks. Like magic, he was a much better mech to talk to. Rodimus spent all his time talking to him, swinging his pedes back and forth and talking through the cage Starscream was in. The Seeker had a swing he would sit on rather than the cold cot and he used it, even though it made the young mech call him a bird in a cage.

When Optimus came to see him, it was a special treat, because the mech brought treats and would often let him bathe.

And then Megatron bought Starscream back. He was immediately put back on a strict ration, but he still had a soft spot for the Prime and young red mech.

"I told you...Primus is always there."

Starscream nodded slowly. "Okay...okay, so what now?"

"Now you wake up. You remember what I told you."

"Everything?"

"Everything."

Starscream smirked. "Think I can handle it?"

"I know you can."