Myrrh-bearer
by SMYGO4EVA

It always seemed so simple back in the day.

Ultra Magnus knew that it wasn't wise to dwell on the past. There were times when he couldn't help himself. He needed that time to remember how it all seemed pristine upon Cybertron, to wield the Golden Age under his servos. Now he tried to swallow something that tasted like ash.

Smokescreen was a warrior, truly. But Ultra Magnus knew that he had yet to see true carnage and warfare. The commander didn't want to expose him to such things. In war, it was inescapable. It was always too soon. It drove away the ragged remnants of nostalgia that still dragged over each soldier's memories, the shards of dreams that still pierced into their helms like glass, that melded into each of their sparks.

It always seemed so simple, back in the day. It was the worst when the scars from war still felt very fresh, Energon pooling from an open wound, or static and fire from damaged limbs, spark beating a thousand times in chassis. All were far from the moments of peace that he desperately clung to.

Smokescreen would choke on his own air in battle, forgetting where he was. Forgetting that he was alongside his fellow Autobots, beside Ultra Magnus, and thinking, for at least the space of a breath, that he was in Cybertron, where everything seemed to make sense.

For a moment, Ultra Magnus wished that Smokescreen wouldn't have to witness such horrors. Saying things like "back in my day…" wouldn't change what happened, and they all must be responsible for what was to come.

It always seemed so simple, back in the day, but that was a lie, and they both knew that now.