Fandom: Transformers Bayverse ('verse)
Author: and
Rating: PG-13
Codes: Supernatural
Summary: Primus knows that the next spark to be sent out, the next child born to his new race, will be nearly consumed by his brother before it is unleashed a monster. He can't stop it, but he can not stand to have it happen against the will of the new spark either.
Full Circle 1: Sometimes Knowing Isn't Enough
He knew it was too much to hope for. His children were so young, so few. Could not his older brother have given them a little more peace? The first of only the fifth generation was stirring, ready to take up residence next to it's carrier's spark.
The first of the generation his brother was ready to warp and corrupt, and he did not have the ability to stop it, but he could not let that spark be corrupted before it was even born without giving it a choice.
"Primus?" an entirely too innocent, happy, eager voice drew his attention to the latest bundle of energy to separate from him. "Why can't I go?"
Primus surrounded the new light with his own. Still separate from him, but surrounded by his protection for the moment. Too soon, far too soon he would not be able to protect his child any longer.
"Because before you go, I would tell you what is to come. I wish to give you a choice in the matter, my child. Once you leave me, I cannot stop what is to happen to you."
"You told me that before," the new spark pulsed with the confidence of pure innocence and a harmonic all it's own. Eager to be on it's own, but happy to be in it's creator's warmth as well. "Out there my choices will define me, good or bad. I want to see the outside. All of it. I'm not afraid."
"That is just it, little one. There is a power who has taken notice of my creation, my children. He wishes only to destroy. He cannot make life himself, and he is terribly jealous and angry, and therefore would corrupt and destroy what I have made. He has already made a move." Primus reached with a strand of light to touch the tiny spark. "The next child to make the journey will be immediately taken under his control, to be mutilated and remade as his own agent. He will take away your ability to make those choices, and he will define you. Only the smallest part of my light will remain. That part will still have the ability to define itself. But so much pain will come from what the Unmaker will do through it ... through you. It will happen, whoever the next spark is. I have given you the gifts that will benefit you the most."
Primus was silent for a moment, appreciating the beauty of this light from his own light.
"You are resilient. You are adaptable. You are improvisation at its finest. Of any spark I have ever created, you have the ability to redefine yourself from what he will make of you. But the journey will be long. Perhaps even longer than this universe. It must be your choice."
The new spark listened despite the desire to insist it was ready. The pain from the spark it had come from stilled it's thoughts and focused them.
"The next spark, no matter which of us?" It considered that, it's color and harmonic running the full spectrum in a chaotic, pulsing dance before settling down into a thoughtful, almost plotting tune in silver and deep red. "If I'm the best to face this, then I'll go. Let the Unmaker try. I'll have my life and I'll come home when it's done."
The grief Primus felt at the innocent confidence his creation expressed was wrenching, the most painful thing he had ever felt.
Yet, he knew that the light could not be completely extinguished in the tiny spark. Part of it, the best part, would never be taken.
"You will come home, little one. I will be waiting to welcome you. There are laws even I must follow as I make my own choices. If I do not, I will became what he is - Destruction rather than Creation. But within those limits, I will help you in any way I can."
"I'll be okay, Primus," the little light reached out to comfort him. "I'm ready to go. I want to go. I'll come back."
The touch of comfort made Primus ache all the more. "I love you, little one. Some part of you will always know that." He had never felt a desire to hold on to one of these little lights before. But he had never sent one into the promise of agony before, either. He held the light within him for as long as he could, but it was time.
His own light opened up, and with a final brush of affection, the tiny spark raced off with boundless enthusiasm.
Before it even reached its mortal carrier, the darkness, pure and relentless, reached out and grabbed it.
Primus didn't know quite what to make of the easy defiance and complete lack of fear in the little one when faced with the Unmaker. It was already old enough to understand mortality, that the darkness was far greater than it, yet even as the pain echoed over the dimming link between creator and child the little one felt no fear. Irritation, curiosity, acceptance, pain, such intense pain, yet never fear.
"What did he tell you, slave, to make you so unafraid?" A smooth, seductive voice said, laughing as it tore again into the innocent spark. "Did he promise to help you? Did he say you had a choice? That you had freedom? Nothing is free. Chaos and destruction is the ultimate fate of all matter and energy. Eventually, every spark, even my brother, will be consumed and come to an end. And you will help me consume them."
The little spark considered him, the outer shell of light that would always be there to shield him from his kind dancing in a myriad of colors and the unmistakable harmonic of amusement. Real, honest amusement. "He promised those things, yes. I'm not afraid because I'm not afraid of oblivion. I live, I die, I cease ... even the pain, it's just there. Why should I be afraid of you? I understand what you want. I'm good with it."
It unsettled the Unmaker to his core. He expected terror and pleading. He relished those things. He wanted to hear the spark beg for mercy as he tore it apart and remade it into his own image.
Instead he found amusement? The complete absence of fear? It was as though the little blight on his perfect chaos knew something he did not, which was not possible.
He briefly considered extinguishing the thing, and waiting for another. But there were characteristics in this excrement of Primus that could be useful for his plans. Its adaptability certainly would be an asset. But the very things that would make it such a useful tool, would also make it difficult to control.
He considered his options. What his brother had tried to accomplish was pathetically obvious, but it would be used to the Unmaker's advantage. He could always extinguish the slave later if it proved too difficult a tool to manage.
Then the Unmaker tore into the spark, filled with ecstasy as he began to shred its horrifying beauty. When he was finished, the slave would relish chaos and destruction nearly as much as he did. The thing would use its fine powers of improvisation to extinguish what Primus had made, and it would revel in it.
The little thing quivered and screamed, beginning to understand what pain was, but it did not beg, did not plead, did not even ask for it to end. It accepted what was happening to it and plunged itself fully into the experience and understandood it.
When Unicron felt he was finished, the void-filled creature rippled with eagerness to find a body and wreck havoc with it. It sang with the harmonics of chaos and destruction, only just covered with enough light that it's carrier and kind wouldn't reject it outright.
Yet even with all its new knowledge, still there was no fear. It was tempered with a savage excitement, but the desire to explore, experience and show others exactly what it knew absolutely sang from it.
Primus grieved for his child. He grieved, too, for the child's carrier who after having her spark consumed and her frame cannibalized by the child, would return to her god as a tiny dim sliver of the spark she had once been. He keened for her, and all whom at his child's hands would be marred, tortured, and finally sent back to their creator maimed and unable to heal until the little spark would finally chose to return and be healed. He mourned, too, for the agony the spark would experience once it finally was able to care again.
In the dim connection that remained between them, Primus saw that the spark still held the most powerful gifts he could create in it - resilience, adaptability, improvisation, and above all, a thirst for the new which would lead it to long for the experience of love and creation.
Thus from the finest work of two great deities a pair of optics lit within it's carrier's chassis. The new life reached out for the mortal awareness now linked to it's own.
~I am Jazz.~