THIS IS CO-WRITTEN BY WOLFSRAINRULES
TIME MEASUREMENTS:
Astrosecond: .5 seconds
Nano-klik: 1 second
Klik: 1 minute
Breem: 8 minutes
Cycle: 1 hour 15minutes
Solar-Cycle: One day (20 hours)
Lunar-Cycle: One night (20 hours)
Deca-cycle: 4 weeks (one month)
Mega-cycle: 96 hours (four days)
Meta-cycle: 12 months (one year)
Stellar Cycle: 6 months
Vorn: 83 years
Mega-vorn: 83,000 years (1000 vorns)
60 mega-vorns: 4,980,000 years
Optimus is curious about the unknown black mech that has come to the Temple of the AllSpark. There is a difference to him, one that is an almost a physical touch against his frame. He can sense Megatron behind him already gearing up for a fight, the others mirroring his reaction. Optimus is one of the few, who despite being close to enough Bumblebee in case the mech turns malicious, that is waiting without a hostile intent. The instant the mech stops and reaches forward to place his servo on the Allspark, is one characterized by astonishment.
Optimus' optics went wide as he, along with many others, witness the following events with disbelief and confusion. The entire temple fell silent as powerful bright arches of blue light poured off the Allspark, arcing in waves to pass over the now relaxed frame of the mech bathing in the glow of the Cube. Optimus finds himself pulling in a sharp vent, as an unmeasurable presence, an energy seemed to settle comfortably across Optimus' shoulders.
And he watched with a kind of shocked awe as the mech lit up, the designs all across his frame, and even those on his weapons came alive with Allspark energy. Optimus had never seen anything like it before.
"Hello, my old friend" the mech whispered in the stunned silence, his voice sorrowful and weighty in a way Optimus had not even heard from Sentinel when he spoke of the wars and losses he had lived through. "It has been a while since then, has it not?"
The temple watched in silence as the mech spoke to the Allspark intimately and gave it a promise, his emotional-field dripping with determination, happiness, and a boundless fury tinged in thick sorrow. Optimus could feel the spikes around the temple- mostly from those who tended the temple such as the Apprentices- of horrified terror or shocked awe. Optimus felt none of this.
Instead he wondered what loss the mech had suffered that affected even the Cube, what events had prompted the promise- the Oath- and as he watched the Allspark react to it...the glow dimming in a negative response and yet glowing brighter in approval? Never before had the like happened and Optimus felt his curiosity grow.
His optics followed the mech's movements as he turned away from the Allspark, the trailing marks of his status slowly fading as he disconnected from the Allspark and instead walked towards the entryway, beckoning a young femme cradling a sparkling in her arms.
"Songbird, come. There is one who wishes to speak to you."
She moved to obey the mech, reverence and a stunned wonder in her every step. When the heavy silence was broken, Optimus was not the only one whose optics jerked around to stare as his mentor began to bellow with no regard and instantly gained the undivided attention of the unknown mech.
"I am (one-who-is-to-watch-and-lead) Sentinel Prime and I demand answers! Never in mega-vorns has any Sensitive of your power stepped forward! Not when the AllSpark was lost, not when war ravaged Cybertron, yet now?! NOW WHEN THERE IS NO NEED FOR YOU?!"
Optimus pulled back, struck speechless in disbelief at his mentor for daring to bring up such times past in the Temple of the Allspark, mere steps from the Allspark itself and in the presence of those who had dedicated themselves to serve and protect in all capacities. He began to move even as Sentinel strode forward, prepared to intervene, when he stopped short at the words that rolled across the temple, heavy like thunder and lightning, booming and yet not. There was a heady power in the air, sharp across his sensors like a polished blade and stars burning in front of his optics in all their brilliance.
It was nothing like anything he had ever felt before and then...then the mech spoke.
"You are incorrect."
Optimus could not help but stare at the mech as the designs trailing over his frame lit with a radiance from within, centered over his spark and yet freely moving across his frame with a will of its own. The mech's gaze, unyielding with the barest visible traces of an unspoken accusation, never once wavered from Sentinel who lifted his helm as if to look down on the unknown mech even as he responded to him.
"You say my words are false, yet you do not even do us the courtesy of your designation! I have spoken nothing but truth! It is you who are in suspicion!"
Optimus had no idea what possessed his teacher to act as he was, especially to the mech who, at the moment, felt more like an extension of the AllSpark itself, ancient and forever, untouched by time, than a singular individual. How Sentinel, as Prime himself, could not see this, was beyond him, but anger was stirring in his spark.
This was not right.
As his spark-brother leaned closer to his frame, radiating his disapproval of the situation in a way only Optimus would feel through their bond, Optimus couldn't help but agree with Megatron's silence support. There was no reason for the hostility that his mentor was violently projecting, no need for the theatrics and it was unnecessary for the Prime to be so set against the other mech without the slightest provocation.
Sentinel was making a mistake and regardless of if he wasn't really a Prime, he was still responsible for Cybertron, still the ruler, so he needed to intervene before this escalated further. Except he didn't have to. The mech solved the problem himself.
There was a smile on his face-plate as he answered the accusations with ease and a surprising revelation.
"(one-who-is-to-watch-and-lead) Sentinel is not your designation. Your designation is (guard-to-stand-and-keep-watch) Sentinel. Which I congratulate for doing until you screwed up in a most spectacular fashion."
And then the mech was staring at him, and Optimus had never felt power like that before this cycle. Like a black hole pulling him in, able to take, to obliterate and wipe him from existence and yet never once does Optimus feel smothered or threatened. He feels as if he could take on everything, even as his spark seizes in his chassis because something is about to change everything, he can sense it in the very air trembles in anticipation.
His spark-brother reacts to his not-quite-fear, sliding into a ready stance to shield him as he has always done since the time that Optimus swore to help him change the system that allowed the Gladiator Pits. There were many others Optimus had assisted in freeing from the Gladiator Pits, the ones who followed his spark-brother those who Megatron had claimed as his own.
He is drawn from his idle recollection, of the normality and what he knows, in this confusion and uncertainty by the words the mech drops, heavy as stones, as every last Cybertronian in the vicinity holds themselves in silent anticipation.
"(guard-to-stand-and-keep-watch) Sentinel was to stand and keep watch for you, (one-who-will-fight-to-defend-favorable-outcomes) Optimus Prime. Long has your arrival been foreseen. They have waited for you and now I stand before you."
There is a part of Optimus that has no idea what to do or how to react. His thoughts were frozen in shock and he cannot understand. Yet, even as he knows this, there is a place inside him that screams in wordless vindication and twists with betrayal. He knows he's not really a Prime, there is a chance he might be, but it is more likely Sentinel simply chose someone to carry on the teachings of a Prime until a true Prime takes his place. Never, in a thousand vorns did he ever... he had not...he had been called 'Prime' through many vorns by numerous bots, but he had never thought it was truth.
Megatron...Ironhide...Jazz...everyone of his friends had told him he was Prime. He just...hadn't truly believed them. Not even with Sentinel agreeing to teach him, not when so many- including himself- doubted it. How could he be a Prime when he doubted himself so often? There was no proof, just a coincidental glyph pressed into his chest plate.
And yet Janus Prime, who is undoubtedly a Prime, had spoken so assuredly, as if Optimus being a true Prime was glaringly obvious. This Prime had appeared out of nowhere, had Declared him to the City and Optimus absently wonderers if his legs are going to fold underneath him. Megatron is a steady, supportive presence at his side even as his chosen friends gather to him, every last one of them radiating a kind of smug 'I-told-you-so' that Optimus is not ready to deal with. Not even close.
Because he is a Prime.
He is not ready.
It doesn't matter what anyone says, he is not ready.
But Janus Prime had seemed so sure...Optimus needs to know more, needs to understand. It's Megatron's optics he first meets. There is instant comprehension and acceptance of his desires, an approval. So he turns to Ironhide, Jazz, Bumblebee and to Prowl and Barricade, those who had followed him since his days as Orion Pax, a mech apprenticed to Alpha Trion, with a thirst for lost knowledge.
"We need to find (beginnings-and-endings-past-and-future-of gateways) Janus Prime. I have questions for him"
Primus bless them, but his mechs don't comment on his less than firm tones and the stiff way he still holds himself. They only nod in agreement and begin mobilizing to find the mech, without asking questions or pressuring, or bursting into celebration that they were right and they follow the Prime.
Bumblebee is the one who knows the temple, inside and out, so they defer to his leading them down, deep into the temple where there are living quarters. There are only three rooms built for Primes and according to a passing Priest, Janus took the first one. Optimus is in his own processor, a thousands questions to ask, wondering if this Prime will even answer them, when he notices his spark-brother flex his digits.
It's only when they draw several steps closer that the rest of them even notice what unsettled the Lord High Protector, even as they come to the rooms of the one called (beginnings-and-endings-past-and-future-of gateways) Janus Prime. Megatron just stops a short distance from the door, not willing to go farther, to move closer.
There was an echoing sense of profound grief pouring from the room of the Prime. Grief and loss in such quantities, the sorts that Megatron remembered from the Pits, when femme fought against femme for the rights to their sparklings and lost, the kind he remembered from mechs and femmes suffering from severed Bonds. A spark-deep ache, all-encompassing and staggering in its weight and mass. Even with parallels to draw upon, to compare and pinpoint the line of thought that causes such aching sorrow, Megatron had never felt such overwhelming emotion to this extent.
He had no need to glance behind him, the others had blanched and were reluctant to take those last few steps to knock on the door. Optimus looked to be the most affected, his servo pressed tightly against his spark, his helm bowed and his optics shut. Megatron knew, for a moment his Prime was going to turn around and leave, without his answers, to get away from the emotion field Janus Prime was projecting.
Mere nano-kliks before his spark-brother could follow through, Bumblebee broke out of the stillness, ignoring the hesitation invoked by the intensity of the Prime's radiating feelings. The youngest of them, and a Sensitive to boot, Bumblebee had always wanted to help others. The yellow bot had moved before his companions could intervene, reaching out and pulling the door to the Prime's room open, as quickly and quietly as he was able.
Megatron was throwing himself forward even as the door opened, instinct and Gladiator enhanced reflexes carrying him across the gap between him and Bumblebee swiftly towards the door. It was a single astro-second before that spark-deep grief shifted to rage-anger-threat-defensive-attack at the soft noise the door caused as it slid open..
And yet, even as Megatron moved, it seemed the Prime realized who stood in his door as he wrenched his sword back and to the side, the blade flying from his servos and imbedding itself into the walls even as he staggered back two steps. That didn't stop Megatron from inserting himself between the unknown Prime and the youngest of those that he and Optimus called their own.
The Prime's emotional-field was strong and open as he suddenly switched from the rush of combat and battle-readiness, to a stabbing aching pain and sorrow, before the emotions were rapidly pulled back. Megatron could see the visible actions of the mech balling up those feelings, reeling them away, and throwing up his shields just as quickly only allowing a simple regret-apology to brush against them as he spoke.
"Excuse my actions," the mech said, easing his posture and showing the sparkling he cradled protectively in his arm, "I was not expecting visitors."
Megatron relaxed a bit at the sight of the little one. He understood perfectly the drive to protect sparklings when there was a perceived threat. He had done it often enough on behalf of the young ones in the Pits, and he knew how instantly the Protection Protocols could come online when subroutines were triggered. He still found himself impressed with the old bot's speed as he stepped aside from Bumblebee, re-sheathing his sword, keeping his focus on Janus.
A klik passed before Megatron broke the silence, nodding in respect to a fellow warrior of incredible skill, while briefly resting his gaze on the little one, before returning it to the brightly glowing optics of the old Prime. For an instant, there was a sea of unspoken words and emotions that he couldn't identified, for an instant, Megatron felt very small. He did not show his discomfort, rather set to ease the sharp edge of something that barely registered on his sensors.
"Our apologies. It was not our intention to alarm you."
A little over a cycle passes in the Prime's rooms as Megatron's knowledge of what 'is-and-always-has-been' is shattered and reforged. The battles he had fought so hard against, all the disgust on the Elites, on the Alphas' and Beta's faces, all their disdain over his lower class...originated from nothing more than a labeling system. A way to make organization more efficient.
Megatron can't quite remember the last time he had been that infuriated. All of the hatred, the deaths, discrimination, all of it, could have been prevented if someone has just remembered Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta was not a Class-System, but in what order Cybertronians first came into the Cities. Now, there was no excuse for those proud, arrogant glitches to look down on him, to look at his Prime as if he was something beneath them.
As Janus Prime began to explain long forgotten and thought forever lost histories of the beginning over everything, Megatron could not help but think that perhaps they were wrong.
There was more to being Prime then anyone remembered.
So much lost history and it is all reflected in that old Prime's optics. Traditions and celebrations, Gatherings and everyone's Gifts and talents encouraged and explored to their potential. There was the ever-present grief as well. So much loss...and yet still the Prime soldiers on.
Megatron finds himself respecting the mech, sensing an understanding and a kinship despite the brief times he has spent in his company. Any mech that could face the staggering amount of absence and spark-ache Janus Prime had projected, that had as much experience and knowledge as the Prime did, who had looked at his spark-brother, his Prime, and seen someone worthy of being a leader, and in the same vent had handed that power over to another was deserving of that much at least.
He projected this feeling of respect and understanding to Optimus through their Bond, knowing his brother would understand his thoughts without words.
Ironhide isn't sure what to make of the self-proclaimed Prime.
Oh, he knows there isn't any way a mech could do the things that one did without being a Prime, but Optimus had struggled since he became Prime, doubting himself to such a degree that he convinced himself that he wasn't a Prime. Regardless of his gratitude of the fact that the Prime had Declared his Prime, that he had shared the past of their people, one without any prompting and one with very little, things didn't quite add up in his processors. He is aware that the emotions that slipped from Janus Prime's control were too deep, too painful to be faked...and yet…
Ironhide is wary. He is suspicious. He is not sure how to label this mech, not sure what to say for sure he knows about him, how he works. There's something about him, something unsettling and dangerous. He gave no explanation, no reason for his actions, no gain for himself, just did.
Ironhide's main concerns regarding the mech are the endless questions his every action generates. What does he want? What are his plans? Why did he Declare Optimus before the people, for what purpose? Where had he been? Was he hiding, waiting, what?
Why had the mech come from wherever he had been only now?
Ironhide may have been frequently labeled a paranoid, trigger-happy, old warrior, but he had not gotten where he was now, he had not survived by ignoring his instincts. Right now, his instincts were insisting on caution and were all but screaming that there was more to this than met the optic.
However, he firmly avoided that bit of himself that whispered deep in his processor that 'maybe whatever it was that haunted Janus Prime was something he should stay far away from…'
Barricade waited patiently until their group reached the ascending stairs before pinging Prowl with a com-request. It was accepted soon enough and he quickly unloaded his thoughts.
Did you see how fast he moved?! Holy Primus, I could barely see anything it was just a blur of motion and black and he had that sword to Bumblebee's throat! Optimus couldn't even match that speed!
Irritation and grudging agreement slid down their Bond, even as they both showed no visible reactions to one another.
Yes, indeed I did. Logically, that is another indicator of the advanced age and experience Janus Prime has in combat.
Barricade let a sliver of caution and suspicion crawl between them.
If he is who he says he is...which Cybertronian is he going to violate and destroy in the most painful of ways we know?
Prowl sent a brief reprimand, before they both paused for a klik to scout the way beyond the entry to the first level of the temple. There were many Priest and Priestess milling about, some studying the AllSpark, although four were attempting to find out which one of them recommended Apprentice Songbird to the temple. Both Enforcers tuned into that conversation. None of the four said much, simply making plans to look up the young femme's immediate superior in order to transfer Guardianship to Janus Prime, at her request.
The brother exchanged a look, mentally taking a note to bring this up with Optimus at the first opportunity, noting that there were no immediate threats. Prowl watched as Megatron leaned closer to their Prime, barely making out the troubled expression on both their faces. The information of the beginning of how Alphas', Betas', Gammas', Deltas', came about, was disturbing news to them.
Prowl and Barricade shared a similar thought, that Optimus might have gone to Janus Prime for answers, but he found out things that simply brought up more questions.
It is not 'which Cybertronian' we need to think about, rather who would commit such acts that would enrage a Prime to the point where such an Oath, to the AllSpark, was both necessary and approved.
There are very few crimes that would invoke that kind of response…
Barricade's voice trailed off, exchanging a meaningful look with his brother as be continued in a quieter tone.
Such as genocide, mass-murder of sparklings, the highest level of betrayal...these are what crimes at the minimum that would require that would justify that kind of punishment.
Prowl couldn't help the surge of utter disgust and revulsion that Barricade agreed with, judging by the mutual feelings.
We would have heard of such things, perhaps is it not a Cybertronian?
No, Barricade instantly denied, the Prime is old. Ancient. He probably crawled in a hole somewhere to mourn and deal with his loss until he could function again. Either that or he tried to offline himself but failed?
A moment passed in silence at that thought. That a being, a Prime, would suffer such loss that he would give up living, was not something they wanted to dwell on.
Regardless, Prowl began, He has shown no hostile intentions towards our Prime. Besides the fact that he Declared him, he was willing to speak of ages long past with very little prompting even though those memories were cherished and it pained him to do so. Optimus seemed to trust him to some degree.
Megatron's reaction was different, Barricade pointed out, like he was greeting someone he knew long ago, not well enough to call friend, not as an enemy either...someone he recognized, but couldn't place a face or a designation.
Perhaps it is because he knows the grief the Prime carries?
In the same way which I can point out bots who've fought in the Pits before?
Prowl flinched, barely imperceptibly, but his brother caught it and instantly sent reassurance down their bond.
You did the best you could, looking for me Prowl, Barricade impressed that thought firmly to his brother, There was nothing you could have done that you didn't already try. So don't blame yourself. Megatron looked after me, just as Optimus looked after you.
There was nothing one could learn from looking at Prowl's face-plate in the moment. No visible expression, emotion nor any hints of his inner turmoil. Yet Jazz sudden appeared beside him, letting the Enforcer see him and brush over his senses before vanishing once more from view. Prowl was still able to sense him, one of Jazz's talents he liked to use to assure him that he was still there even though he couldn't sense him.
Hey, it wasn't your fault and if you think for a moment it was, I'll kick your aft.
He straightened minutely, as a visual image of his brother doing just that, drifted into his processors.
It would be impossible for you to do so.
Oh yeah?
Optimus can beat Megatron.
You little piece of scrap!
You are younger than I, Barricade.
There was a burst of static over their com-link before Jazz's amused voice cut in through their conversation. Ad he spoke it became obvious that he had invited everyone into the conversation, dragging everyone back on track as he spoke.
"As amusin' as this all is," the mech began "It seems ta meh, tha' Sentinel is takin' his sudden frustrations and losses out on th' masses." there was a pause before Jazz continued, providing the information he had managed to gather. "From wha' Ah managed ta put together, Janus Prime came ta the City after wipin' the floor with some lowlife scum tha' were trying ta mess wit' his femme. She took him straight here- at his request- and we saw wha' happened here."
Jazz paused another nano-klik, flicking into view of his Prime so Optimus could see his visor- meet his optics as it were- before he continued. "The Prime isn't happy wit' Janus right now. He geared himself up ta a right rage while we were downstairs bein' educated. But th' people, the Priests and Priestesses aren't ta happy with 'im righ' now. They started yellin' back at him. Callin' his choices inta question, askin' why he never Declared Optimus...Sentinel ain't ta happy wit' tha'...and he's makin' sure everyone knows it."
The area was silent, no one making a sound as they processed what Jazz had just told them. Not one of the bots doubted the mech, having known him too long, and trusting him, having watched situations play out enough to know better.
The moment of contemplation was broken as both the Sensitives in the group stilled, their helms snapping around to face the stairs they had just climbed up even as their battle-masks slid into place without thought. They were quick to dart away from the the immediate line of the stairs, pressing themselves to the walk beside it.
It wasn't even a thought as the rest of the group mimicked their actions, immediately moving to follow after Jazz and Bumblebee, readying themselves for battle, and falling into place to better defend each other without thought.
Optimus found himself moving in front of his people without thought, Megatron moving in synch with him as he always had, until the two bots- Prime and Lord High Protector- stood in front of those they called their own.
Neither bot expected the events that followed.
Before anyone even came into view, they could sense a spike of powerful rage-anger-disbelief. And then Sentinel Prime- Sentinel Prime- came flying up the narrow hall of stairs that led to the rooms beneath the temple at great speeds, flying past the place Optimus and his group had been standing an astro-second before, and slamming hard into the temple wall.
Optimus felt his spark squeeze for a nano-klik, his optics snapping back to the stairs as the sounds of steady, intent pedes falling against the stairs seemed to echo up to temple room.
Janus Prime stepped into sight, his frame tense and enraged, optics gleaming almost white with his anger. He looked to be a being of myth, an avenging deity, righteous in his fury, as the AllSpark pulsed in time to his rage.
"You dare?"
The Prime's voice boomed across the temple and there was utter silence in its wake, the sounds of the temple falling into a terrified quiet. It was as if a black hole had opened in the temple room, pulling all attention straight to Janus and yet Optimus could feel the weight of the Prime's anger pressing down on him, threatening to crush all who were sucked into the black hole's pull.
"You who have no rights, would dare to take that which is mine from me?!"
Opimus had no idea what Sentinel had done, but he wasn't sure he wanted to know what had pulled this rage from the Prime who has sat so calmly and spoken of history long past with him and his people in a way that brought Alpha Triton to Optimus' processor.
Janus was startled by the door opening once again.
He had been sitting quietly at the conference table, wondering over the brief touch of frustration he had read in Optimus's posture before his departure. He understood that the almost-brother he had once known, was not this familiar mech he met only recently. He knew, and understood, yet a part of him could not help but partially forget that this wasn't his Optimus, tested and tried through battle and experience, both hardened and tempered through war, loss and suffering.
This one carried himself tall, confidently, with the same edge of charisma and power that hung like a mantle around his shoulder plates... and yet, there was an edge of youth, of innocence and hesitation that Sam had never seen in Optimus before.
Janus was absorbed in his thoughts and thus taken aback when Sentinel stormed into the room, without as much as a by-your-leave. He reached for his sword, grasping the hilt and shifting to block the little Apprentice behind him.
Songbird was in the background, barely finished with feeding Ironwill. She was young, but she trusted her Prime and she had never liked Sentinel. So when the older Prime invaded their rooms, she was concerned. When he actually snarled at Janus Prime, Songbird felt the beginnings of fear slide down her back strut.
"Your offences towards me will be righted," the Prime boomed, marching forward, regardless of the blade held up in Janus's servos.
There was a moment when Songbird was confused. And then Sentinel Prime's optics zeroed in on the sparkling, peering around in curiosity, cradled protectively in her arms. There was an instant of stillness as Sentinel took one more step, his arm rising, his servos opening and his fingers brushed barely past Janus's shoulder plates, right before her Prime reacted.
Later, when Jazz would ask her what had happened, Songbird would only be able to repeat one thing.
"He was there one moment and gone the next."
Sam was seriously pissed. As in he was finding that murder was an acceptable solution. Granted, he had killed Megatron, but he had been revived and that was a bit difference. Also granted, that he planned to kill the Fallen in an extremely brutal and painful manner, in the name of all those who had suffered, but this?
This was going to be personal.
He reached out with his blade, using the flat-side and swinging it across to bash Sentinel over the helm at the exact same moment he lashed out with a pede and delivered a punishing kick to his chassis, aiming for where he knew the spark casing would be below the armor. He didn't even think about the action, following the knowledge in his processor that said it was the equivalent of punching a human in the solar plexus.
As Sentinel went flying, Janus darted after him, not allowing him a moment to recover, using an uppercut to give the bot a lift so he could punt him out the door. The old Prime landed heavily on his aft and Janus took a moment to glance back, checking on Songbird and his sparkling to make sure of their well being.
Ironwill was afraid. Trembling and making soft little whimpers, whirling and clicking as he huddled down in Songbird's arms, while the femme herself was pressed into the wall, using a corner to hide most of her frame while keeping it curled around the sparkling.
There were memories, from the AllSpark, trying to creep into his vision. Memories of the dead and dying, the screams and cries of all the defenceless children that had been murdered and Sam…
Sam let go.
And Janus straightened and calmed and rationally decided that even though he was not guilty of the act in this timeline, Sentinel was still the one to apathetically shoot Ironhide in the spark.
Twice.
He hadn't changed since Sam had last seen him, so he was pretty sure, given the chance, Sentinel would make the same choices, speak the same words and kill the same bots. Therefore, according to the law, murder was illegal, but Janus was a Prime and a Prime held a duty to the people. It was common sense to make sure betrayers would not betray again, that murderers could not kill another victim.
It was common sense, obvious, that Janus would not, that he could not give Sentinel that chance. Especially when the mech had his optics on his sparkling. Janus tried not to think about the likelihood that Sentinel had done the same as he was trying to do now to other sparklings. He tried not to think about how the Prime could- maybe had- taken sparklings from their Creators for any reason he wished, and no one would be able to stop him because he was Prime..
Janus failed. So if he slammed another pede into Sentinel's faceplates just because he could, well that was his business. It wouldn't matter in a few kliks anyway, he reasoned as he followed the mech's path up the stairs and towards the Temple Room.
Sentinel was not prepared for the assault Janus dished out, the black mech remembering clearly every single fight he had ever witnessed. From Megatron to Optimus, Ironhide to Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, Sam had watched them all and now he had a chance to apply his knowledge to his actions, aided by the experience of his frame and the AllSpark buzzing in his processor.
Down the hall Sentinel was pressed, by kicks and punches, palm strikes and the hilt and blunt side of his blade. Janus wasn't intending to kill Sentinel right then and there especially when he was an unknown to everyone which would leave him at a disadvantage should they take offence to his offlining.
So if, instead, when coming up to the stairs where the old Prime blearily staggered to his feet in an effort to counter-attack, Janus decided to make a spectacle of him?
Well, punishment was due and what better way to punish a politician than to make a mockery of him?
With an ease that almost surprised him, Janus took firm hold of Sentinel's back-plates and reared back, gathering every single last bit of strength, even as his details glowed with power…
...and threw Sentinel Prime as far as he could.
To Sam's delight, the action in no way diminished his fury, nor his desire to beat a little bit more on the fragger that dared to think he could take his sparkling.
Of course, it was simply a bonus when he climbed to the top of the stairs, just in time to see the looks on everyone's face plates.
Bonus or not, Janus had a mech to demolish.
Politically of course. For now.
"You dare?" he growled the words, allowing his rage-fury-protectiveness to bleed into his words, to bleed into his emotional-field. Let this old bot know how enraged Janus was. Let the temple know. Because this- what he did here and now- would act as a warning. A promise to his reaction if any other bot dared to touch what was his.
After all- if Janus would beat down a Prime, no one would get away with it would they?
"You who have no rights, would dare to take that which is mine from me?!"
Janus strode forward, optics and designs gleaming with his fury, as he stared at the place in the temple wall that Sentinel had come to rest. A part of him took a moment to appreciate the distance Sentinel had flown, and the way Sentinel was hanging in the wall thanks to the damage his frame had done on impact.
"You would dare to touch my sparkling? My Apprentice? Dare to try and take them from their place beside me?"
Janus allowed his engine to snarl and rev loudly in the silence, the weight behind his rage growing heavier for an instant, moving towards painful to others around him, before he pulled it back to simply 'crushing'. He had no desire to harm the young ones in this Temple after all- Sentinel was the focus of his rage.
Janus continued his path towards the old Prime, reaching forward and pulling the bot from the wall, his servo gripping hard to the armor on Sentinel's front, optics narrowed and bright, the steady pulse of rage-fury-protectiveness pouring off of his frame in time with the pulse of his spark, the light of his designs, and the pulse of the Allspark behind him.
Undeterred, Sentinel gained his bearings and leapt up, gathering his pedes underneath him in a smooth movement. Energon leaked down from his intake and there was several noticeable dents in his chest plate and helm. He reached and pulled out a blaster, one Janus instantly recognized as the Cosmic Rust weapon that had once killed Ironhide.
His rage jacked up a notch or two, before he quickly controlled it. He spun around, ducking the first shot and stretched out a leg to hook around the Prime's ankles, but Sentinel was prepared this time, and he jumped high and rolled behind Janus, firing off several more shots. Janus quickly made it priority number one to take out the blaster, running through all available maneuvers in his memory banks even as he angled himself so that the wild shots Sentinel was taking at him were less likely to hit any bystanders. The fact he had to so at all was enraging on its own. Janus would not see another bot (another Ironhide, Sam whispered in his processors) fall apart around their spark as the rust spread and consumed.
He distinctly recalled this one move that the Twins had used in the beginning of inventing their Jet-Judo...He carefully calculated points of contact, his position and his opponent's…
Doable.
A nano-klik later, Janus burst into a series of movements, aiming perfectly timed strikes and flips off his surroundings and to the mech's wrists and servos to wrench the blasters from Sentinel's grasp, tucking them neatly away into his subspace. His engine revved with his anger over Sentinel's careless shooting in a temple full of bots with no regard to their safety.
As soon as the blasters were in his subspace, Janus reached for his sword, pulling it free and lifting the point so that it was even with Sentinel's throat, his engine rumbling a low threatening note even as his armor bristled.
Sam had had no idea that Cybertronian armor could act like a rattlesnake's tail, or the ruff on a wolf, rattling and bristling a non-verbal warning. The equivalent to a human screaming "Don't mess with me or mine or I will mess you up".
As Janus' armor rose and rattled-for some reason Sam kept thinking of death knells- he watched Sentinel tense, his own armor beginning to flare in response as he pulled his own sword free.
Janus kept his optics on Sentinel as the bot advanced towards him. The first strike was fast and brutal. Janus had no doubt that Sentinel was not happy Janus had his prized blasters- which he would not be giving back- nor that Janus had very publically challenged his authority and it showed in the strength and intensity behind each slash and the angle of his strikes. He was very clearly aiming for vital areas. Spark chamber, knee joints, fuel lines, neck cables...things that would end with Janus offline.
In response, Janus blocked every movement, his frame strangely relaxed for how confrontational he had been kliks earlier.
Optimus was frozen, his optics wide as he watched the events playing out in front of him. He had never seen Sentinel act in this manner, nor had he seen his mentor so determined to see a bot offline that had not attacked him first.
Jazz was the one to voice the realization that both he and Megatron had come to.
"Th' mech is playin' wit' 'im."
His voice was whisper soft, meant for only two audio receptors, the first sound not made by Janus or Sentinel to break the silence.
"What?"
Optimus pulled his optics from the fight to glance at the silver mech beside him, but it was Megatron who spoke in response to his question.
"Janus is playing with Sentinel. Look at him. Every strike that connects with Sentinel is nonlethal- made with the flat or dull side of his blade- and in some way is correcting the mech."
Megatron glanced at Optimus and his spark-brother was one of the few who would be able to see the respect, satisfaction and amusement in his optics.
"Do you not remember how you were taught to handle the blade Optimus?"
He inclined his helm towards the two bots, his attention never straying.
"Look again."
Optimus obeyed, completely silent as he realized Jazz and Megatron were right.
Sentinel was trying to murder the bot, and Janus was reacting as a Master might to a foolish challenger completely out of their league, knocking his strikes away with ease, one servo holding the hilt of his sword and the slightest of movements deflecting every attempt Sentinel made to break into the Prime's guard.
Janus was gliding around Sentinel's form, a darkness in his optics even as he herded Sentinel across the temple and back to where they started. Eventually, Sentinel venting hard and utterly furious-humiliated-bewildered, was forced to stop when Janus lashed out, quick and intent.
The strike brings Sentinel to his knees, dazed and confused. The next strike is harsh and knocks the sword from Sentinel's servos, where Janus was quick to pick it up and subspace it.
"You are a fool," Janus' voice is soft but lined in steel as he speaks, "you think you are above everyone due to your title, but a Prime is nothing without their people. You have rejected those you consider to be 'less' than others and in doing so you have rejected part of what makes a Prime a Prime. We are meant to lead everyone, not those that we choose. That is not the right of a Prime."
Janus shook his helm, his optics darting to Optimus and his pack,
"No, it is a Prime who is chosen, " he stresses, his optics clouding in memory as Janus continued "Fate rarely calls upon us at a moment of our choosing Sentinel Prime. Primes are chosen in the very beginning. Chosen by Primus, by the Allspark, and when they come into being, come into themselves, they are chosen by those who would follow them."
He made a sharp gesture towards Optimus and those he had claimed- who had freely claimed him-
"and they are loyal. You have chosen to reject this, chosen to attack those who should be your brothers, you have chose instead of waiting to be chosen and you do not understand why this is wrong. You chose to come to my rooms, chose to attempt to take my sparkling, and chose to put yourself above all those around you."
Janus paused, allowing the weight of his presence to come to the forefront as he spoke his next words,
"And so I now choose to give you a warning. Do not attempt to take what is not yours. Do not attempt to take those who have chosen others over yourself...or I will chose your fate for you."
His servo tightens on the hilt of his blade, his optics dark and intent, and his frame still in the way all predators are when stalking prey.
Prowl is the one to step forward, his voice steady and strong as he pulls the attention of Janus Prime to his person.
"Janus Prime."
At the sound of his name, Janus shifts the slightest bit, his sword remaining steady despite that, and Prowl knows the Prime is listening to him. He continues with his speech.
"I am (moves-to-ruthlessly-search-in-stealth) Prowl, and this is my brother (to-block- and defend-against-opposing-forces ) Barricade. We are Enforcers of Cybertron, and we will bring Sentinel Prime in for his attempt to unlawfully acquire your sparkling, however, if you were to give into your desire to bury your blade in his spark, we would be required to do the same to you."
Janus stilled, his servo tightening on his blade again, before it loosened. He stepped back from the downed form of Sentinel Prime, dipping his helm in acknowledgement even as he spoke,
"I will leave him in your servos then, (moves-to-ruthlessly-search-in-stealth) Prowl; (to-block- and defend-against-opposing-forces ) Barricade, but know that I will defend myself and those that look to me for protection."
Janus kept his sword free of his subspace, but he lowered the point down and away from its place over Sentinel's spark as Barricade and Prowl both moved forward to restrain the disgraced Prime.
"You," Sentinel snarled, his optics narrowing to focus solely on his defeater, "You spawn of Unicron above! Filthy glitched fragger! You don't deserve the name of Prime, you bring shame to its very ideal! Elite? Alpha? I label you Omega! Below my pedes is your rightful place in this world!"
Prowl's voice was sharp and commanding as he spoke "That is not your place or decision. Be silent."
Sentinel barely glanced at the mech, his attention focused on a bit of metal clutched between his digits, only speaking a single line. It proved to be a costly mistake, as Janus' reaction was instant and powerful. Where he had remained stoic and silent in the face of the spew of insults to his person, this sentence caused an immediate and violent response.
"I hear by discharge you from duty, Enfo-" Sentinel rose up in a smooth quick movement, the little bit of metal in his servos lifting with a deadly intent.
Sentinel's words and actions were cut off when Janus shot back around, swinging his fist in a merciless punch, sending the mech skidding across the floor, tumbling aft over helm until he landed prostrate in at the base of the AllSpark. He scarcely had time to lift his optics before Janus spoke again, his voice hard as diamonds and cold as the blackness of space.
"Old friend, he was once yours. You know his actions and his ways. Do as you please."
Those inside the temple watched in shocked silence as the Allspark responded to the Prime's words, the Sensitives in the temple flinching back from the Song that rose from the Allspark. A Song that spoke of anger, of sadness, of loss and an intented will to see through to the end.
The Allspark lit from within, sparking and crackling with power, its sheer presence acting to keep Sentinel pinned in place at its base. It pulsed once, twice...erupting into an blazing bolt of power that slammed into Sentinel and the mech arched off the floor, his vocalizer reacting to the agony with sharp stutters as words and noises failed him.
When Sentinel fell silent and still, whispers from the Apprentices, those that had witnessed this moment broke the heavily charged moment. Janus made no noise or movement, distant from the events even as he bore witness to what the Allspark had chosen for its punishment of Sentinel.
The noise suddenly cut off, quiet once more falling as glyphs were made visible in the faintly smoking ridges now carved into Sentinel's frame. The AllSpark pressed the information into his processors and Janus faithfully repeated it out loud.
"For a selfish love, did this one betray his spark."
Janus stared at the smoking frame of the once great Prime and closed his optics, his shoulder-plates dipping suddenly as if a heavy weight had been placed upon them, his very frame radiating the feelings of weary-exhausted-mournful he vented sharply his soft words carrying across the Temple despite being barely audible
"Choices define who we are. It is our actions that affect those around us, and our actions that lead us along our paths. You were once a mech of dignity and pride Sentinel...but it is your choices, your actions, that have brought about this end for you."
He straightened determinedly, lifting his shoulder-plates and firmly turning his back on Sentinel, allowing the two Enforcers to sweep past.
A/N I (being wolfsrainrules) have decided North (being my excellent Peach-ness) is an excellent influence on my (as in the wonderful Wolfie's) Muse and we should have tried this co-writing thing sooner. Hope you all enjoy our brainchild and the hints of worldbuilding (which is really, really fun when you have someone to bounce ideas off of by the way) that work their way in!
Hope you enjoy!
Until next time!