Transformers Prime: Ordeal

~Prologue to Act II~

~Prowl's POV~

If you're looking to be "friends" with me, then I'll tell you immediately to drop it; in fact, you should follow the other Autobots and stay away from me. I have no interest in socializing with others if it doesn't pertain to our primary objectives, and no matter how well you perform on any mission, I will always criticize you and never commend you as long as the war is happening. If you're asking for praise, then you're addressing yourself to the wrong person: that is Prime's job.

My job is to make sure that everyone is working hard. Prime issues the orders, I reinforce them and I oversee the tasks. Whatever the orders are, I expect any soldier to give me not a 100%, but 200% and above. There is no time for slacking around, especially when we're inhabiting a planet that isn't ours.

After stationing here for Megacycles, I know that the members of Team Prime have grown accustomed and too comfortable with planet Earth and its inhabitants. At times, I wonder if they remember what we have been fighting for. Although we do take pride, even the sickening pleasure in battling our enemies for freedom and the rights of others, I wonder if the vision of our cause within the team is impaired and thus derogatory. Some of us spend their time – let me correct that – waste their time with the humans they are meant to guard and forget why we are here to begin with.

We're here because the war destroyed Cybertron. Cultures and cities annihilated by eons of combat, civilizations obliterated by Megatron and his army of Decepticons... An impending catastrophe we couldn't comprehend until we saw what it ultimately resulted in: our home had become inhabitable, now constituting of barren wastelands lacking resources and deprived of life, and it forced us to depart in exodus. It was a painful, but necessary measure that would give the planet the time to repair itself for the massive damage we had inflicted upon it.

In the present time, the planet still needs millions of giga-cycles of healing, and before we even consider returning to it, we need to eliminate the incumbent problem:

Megatron.

As long as Megatron is around, at best, history would repeat itself. At worst, Cybertron would awaken to the tyrannical rule of his Iron fist, its population bent, broken and suffering from his will. But it wouldn't end there; he would lay the foundations of a terrible empire upon Cybertron and let it spread across the universe like wildfire. No one and nothing would be spared, not even planet Earth.

That is why our mission is about defeating the Decepticons, not about settling down on another planet and socializing with new life forms, most of which wouldn't be ready to accept us. Our priority is and should always be the mission.

As long as there are Decepticons online, this war would never see the end of it.

As long as this war is ongoing, we will never have a home.

Acting as Team Prime's strategist, there are variables of the war's outcome that I've considered and deduced, and most of them look grim. When this war comes to an end, our chances of us being victorious are below average. Megatron has a large army to commandeer, either soldiers to fight the war or miners to dig and scavenge Energon from Energon depots. While I do not doubt the powerhouse of our own team, we cannot stand up against the Decepticons when they have the upper hand. If the war rages on, then I know that most of us will die knowing that all they've ever done was fight and destroy for the sake of survival and desperate hope for a future. It's a frail dream that I currently fail to envision.

It's fortunate that our commander seems to have no problem imagining it, despite desperate times and unmeasurable losses. If it weren't for him, this team would be as deprived of hope as I am. With that said, being hopeless does anything but make me unwilling to carry on this battle. I want to fight this battle as much as any other Autobot. That is all I ever want to do right now. Above anything else, I want to see an end to this war. However, deep in my Spark, I know that this dream will always be squandered by the hard, depressing facts of war that I can never allow to be omitted or denied.

No bot can understand how much I envy our leader's light.

My thoughts emotive, a tingling, unbearable sensation crawled up the back of my head. It was more of an automatic, self-conscious reflex that brought my servo to my head.

It's only in its early stages. I might as well do it now than later.

My optics swayed from left to right, and my body spun around gently as I scanned the room. Having confirmed that I really was alone, my servos reached for my chest and, with a clack and a puff of pressurized air, it popped open. The interior of my chassis was layered with hard-wired circuitry, cords and lines which allowed the Energon to travel and to guarantee the body's functionality. In the middle of it all was the Spark chamber which housed the very essence of my being, but protecting that was a spiked crystal shard, glowing in its translucent blue light. Opposing tips were partly broken off or damaged, scratches were clearly visible on its surface, yet this perfectly asymmetrical artifact remained a beautiful work of scientific art, finely and acutely crafted. If tilted correctly, the arrays within the crystal would come together at its center and display the very image of the place which it hailed from.

I found myself once again in the past, immersing myself into the world of memories. The place was so beautiful, bathing my Spark into a serene state. It was a short-lived sensation that spanned up until a new set of images from my data-banks trampled on it, accompanied by devastation and shock, fueling the rage that would linger forevermore within my Spark.

And I see it again. The crumbling of the towers. The gardens set aflame, its only relic picked up and held within my servos. The complete annihilation of the dreams and beauty which I clung onto for dear life. And then...

It was then I knew that tingling sensation had increased in strength, now placing an unbearable weight upon my back, the display on my visor fizzing only once. I took out the shard and set it down on the counter of Teletraan 1. This moment was mine alone, a time where me weakness could be revealed, where I was allowed to be emotionally compromised. I gently tapped the artifact and it vibrated to life. Its core brightened, it levitated and floated vertically, and as it begun to spin on itself, it emitted an eerie, yet soothing sound. Resting both servos onto the counter, I shut off my optics and concentrated on the sound. I sensed the shard's light brightening my faceplate, and the sound brought that serenity needed to calm the emotions that raged within me. The uncomfortable feeling had gone from unbearable to bearable, and then faded away until it disappeared entirely. That was when I knew I was at peace, and the tranquility offered me the time to meditate.

I knew it had only been at least 10 megacycles before Prime called me forth, but it was sufficient enough to grant me time to empty my mind and to recuperate. And it was sufficient enough to make me at the top of my game and devoid of any emotional distractions. I took my leave and went to Prime.

It was a meeting that lasted only a megacycle, and with a busy mainframe I returned to my office. I didn't pay immediately attention, but I noticed that the door to my office was wide open. And as I got a good look into my room, shock immediately filled my systems, momentarily paralyzing me in place.

I had left my most precious treasure exposed by leaving it floating above the counter. And the one marveling it and reaching his servo towards it was none other than Michelangelo.

"DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH IT!" came the explosive yell from my mouth. I barely gave the human the time to back away as I rushed in and grabbed the crystal artifact from his prying eyes, verifying whether the shard had been damaged or not.

"P-Prowl! Get a grip, man! I didn't touch anything!"

His reactive shout had only reached me moments later and interrupted my thoughts, drawing me back into reality. I looked up from the shard, stared at the human boy and took the time to read his face. The body on the floor, hands held up high, the blood drained from his face. His short, rapid intakes of air clearly indicated shock and fear. Like a virus, that shock propagated and instantly infected me as I began to register my actions. I was taken aback by the sudden eruption of my own emotions that I failed to fill the silence with words.

What has gotten into me?

To regard me as unsociable was one thing, but to witness even the slightest hint of fear and terror in your own ally's optics – to watch them view you as the monster - was degrading. I averted my optics from the human in shame and stared at the crystal within my servos. For what felt like long cycles, I listened with intent audio receptors as they took in the combined quiet hum of the crystal and the raspy pants of the boy.

"I... I apologize, Michelangelo." I fell silent again. I contemplated, scouring through my databanks to find the right utterances. "I didn't mean to scare you. This crystal... You can't understand how precious it is to me."

The boy, too, was quiet. I only focused on the faintly luminescent shard, but I knew that, despite the overwhelming surprise, he had found the strength to pick himself off the ground. "I've never seen you so worked up over anything." he said, "It's got to be one hell of a treasure if it makes you go crazy like that."

I glanced over to him, optics narrowed in skepticism. "I don't go crazy. This erratic behavior was nothing more than a... reaction."

"That's what you call it? A reaction? Prowl, you just scared me shitless! I thought you were going to..." The teenager stopped and shut his eyes. He shook his head, obviously unconvinced and interrupting his sentence. I knew what he was going to say, but it was a bombshell that shook me to the core and nearly left me lifeless.

I thought you were going to kill me.

My optics widened as I stared at the boy. Did I really appear so frightening to him that he feared for his own life? I tried to analyze the situation, to imagine myself in the human's place, watching as an emotionally compromised robot fifteen times the size of him stampeded towards him. I felt my Spark pulse before constricting in on itself. This unpredictable backlash had endangered his safety, and it left me both shocked and disgraced.

Moments passed as Michelangelo tried to regain control of his irregular breathing, his pulse decreasing as he calmed himself. "What is this thing that makes you so reactive, as you would put it?"

As if it wasn't enough, his query was an additional poignant stab to the Spark, bringing forth the turbulent emotions that welled up from within. He meant no harm; his relentless curiosity was the essence of his being, especially after my out-of-the-ordinary behavior. He may have known that he was asking me to unearth the past, but he couldn't understand the pain that, little by little, undid that sense of contentment that I had collected along the way. I hesitated, clutching with a firm, unnerving grip onto the crystal, pulling it further away from his view. This was a memorabilia that stemmed from my darkest, personal secrets. What gave him the right to learn about this?

He is nothing more than a child! Revealing this secret would do nothing more than discredit me and endanger the efficiency of all conducted missions.

But the orders of Prime resonated in my mainframe, producing clear processors of events past. The leader had asked to speak with me alone after having appointed me this new task, mostly to give me proper instructions. I recall that meeting so well, because it was the only time where I had so many hesitations and doubts.

"Prowl... I asked you here to reconfirm your role as Michelangelo's guardian. You haven't been on Earth as long as the others have, which is all the more significant that you acquaint yourself with this new world, and this guardianship will aid you with it. As such, his safety goes beyond the priority of any other mission; watch over him and build up your relationship with him, learn of his culture, but also teach him of ours. You may be surprised with what invaluable results it could bring."

While I accepted this task without hesitation and without any retort, I found myself struggling with my own reluctance and disagreements. I am a bot whose entire life had been about following orders, and never would I go against them unless there were some tactical strategies that needed to be considered. That child lacked all competence that could provide us with the edge and advantage to win this war, and for that, I question Prime's judgment. How can this guardianship bring results?

I still had no answer to that question. This guardianship was as new as it was unfamiliar, and so far, he had been the result of cycles of frustration because of his unpredictability and hastiness. But I've surprisingly grown to enjoy his mildly annoying presence. He was interested in the work I did, trying to understand why I picked and developed some of these strategies for battles. No one in the team, aside from Prime, was as curious as he was, and I did enjoy it. At times, just retelling the plans that had been laid out helped me pinpoint some of the frailties which would endanger any mission. He also asked obvious questions which actually ended up being the very essential questions I had overlooked. He even indulged me in one of his strategy games called chess. From there, I could see that he had some intellectual potential; while I've never lost a game against him, he succeeded in putting me in sticky situations, and I have a great respect for that. We managed to keep it a steady, mutual and friendly relationship, even gaining some respect for one another, but we've had our ups and downs here and there. This outburst was overstepping it, exposing every possible risk of an immediate termination to this guardianship, including the undoing of the trust we had established with one another so far.

For the sake of both of us, I must follow through Prime's orders and prove that I can handle any task efficiently, even at the expense of upholding my own standards.

My auxiliary port vented some pressurized air. "This object is one of the only surviving artifacts from the Crystal City on Cybertron."

"Crystal City?"

I nodded in approval. "Crystal City was a place that brimmed with ingenuity and innovations; the area itself, entirely made of pure crystal, was created by the greatest architects and constructors Cybertron had ever known. The gleams reached to any neighboring community, even cities as far as Praxus, my own place of origin. All you needed to do was to look into the distance and find that glimmer resting on the horizon. The city was the very utopia that provided the time and space for experimentation. Dreams became a reality there, resulting in incredible, cutting-edge, revolutionary science and ideologies. Great minds hailed from there, and to me, Crystal City was one of the most beautiful places on Cybertron."

I looked down at the crystal. "I'm not very fond of science, but more of the scientific art that came from Crystal City. The Helix Gardens, for example, a place of meditation, peace and tranquility, was created by the very same Cybertronians from Crystal City, and had been used as an area to present ideas and inventions, scientific breakthroughs, philosophical ideologies and other amazing art."

I brought forth the oval, spiked artifact and tapped it as I set it down. It began to increase its glow, floating and slowly spinning on itself as it began to emit a soft frequency that, once again, allowed my mind to reflect in tranquility. "This crystal artifact is one of those amazing arts. Along with many others in the Helix Gardens, those crystals were used as a meditative method thanks to the soothing frequency it emitted. If you look closely, you'll see that all the lines would meet and assemble to form an image. That image is Crystal City."

"Incredible... That tower in the middle...

"Many towers, actually, but because they're so close to one another, it gives that illusion of being a single tower. It was a common mistake that many Cybertronians made. Those towers are the Sensor Towers, observatories that contained instruments for scientific research. It also housed the Spectrum of energy, which, once activated, would reflect and mirror all its light and arrays and become that translucid, glimmering beacon of Cybertron."

I had noticed then that I had been nearly carried away by my emotions, a smile on my faceplate which began to fade away.

"You liked that place a lot."

It was a blatant observation, one which made me reflect about the crystal I was holding. "No, I didn't like it." I was momentarily silent, selecting the appropriate words from my mainframe. "The sentiment I had for the city and its creation, the Helix Gardens, went beyond adulation and fascination. I've always idolized with great passion the acute art expertly crafted by calculative minds. In some ways, watching from the borders of Praxus that glimmer resting on the horizon gave me hope for a future far better than the one we struggled living in. And whenever I wasn't assigned with tasks in my caste, I would spend my time meditating in the Gardens, listening to the combined sounds of many crystals such as this one. It was the only time I felt serene, cycles of which granted me healing and clarity."

Nothing but hum of the crystal was heard in this quiet moment. Michelangelo shuffled his feet; he always felt uneasy when there was a lack of noise. "What happened?"

The tone of his voice was gentle and slightly elevated, marked by that curiosity of his. "The civil war happened." My reply to him was cold and my frown disapproving, "As the war broke out, many locations fell to the Decepticons' warmongering, their lust for tyranny culminating to territorial expanse or complete annihilation. In their terms, what couldn't be conquered was destroyed."

Another heavy silence. "They attacked Crystal City, and I watched from Praxus as the Sensor Towers collapsed during the assault, crumbling and crushing anything and anyone that stood beneath it."

This was the one time – the only time – where I looked into Michelangelo's optics and I couldn't discern what emotions mine were emitting. "You can't imagine the despair and horror that filled our Sparks that day. I still remember the sound of shattering crystals as the Towers collapsed, gone with all the dreams for the future."

I couldn't hold my stare for too long, and looked away, gripping tightly onto the shard. "In the aftermath of Crystal City's destruction, while I was coordinating some missions back at HQ, I overheard a conversation some Autobots were having. They said that the collapse was one of the most beautiful things they had ever seen; the arrays and lights colliding, gleaming in unimaginative, violent colors as the explosion erupted from beneath the crumbling tower..."

I took time to rest my servos on the table, vivid images of the past flooding my mainframe. I saw the stunning tower, the barbarous attack and, in a fraction of time, a beauty rendered to ashes and dust. With a sudden violent urge, I brought my fist up and slammed it onto the table. "How d-dare make this abject comparison? What in their sick, twi-isted mind gives them the right to compare eons of cultural beauty with a blissful moment that vanished in less than a cycle? The city itself was meant to be everlasting, reminding us of Cybertron's Golden Age, the era we longed to return to."

I sensed an overwhelming amount of emotions as they gripped at my Spark and brought my memory banks to dance. And as I unwillingly reveled in the past, I continued my story. "It didn't end there. No, the war propagated, reaching my city, Praxus. I wasn't there when Crystal City was destroyed, but I was there when the Helix Gardens were invaded by the rampaging Decepticons, who trampled and obliterated all the aesthetic brilliance until it was burned to the ground. Tha-at was the next greatest... L-loss... that had scar-scarred my memory ba-a-anks. The-the-the me-eeeeeere thought-ought of ii-iii-iiit..."

My vocoder fell into a sudden distortion, mixing with blaring noises and electronic sounds. I rested my servos on the counter as I felt a flicker in my head, which grew into a weighing throb and slowly propagated, flooding my mainframe. A series of short sparks danced uncontrollably on my head, emanating as multiple processors and databanks collided with each other. The image feed on my visor fizzed, distorted and fused with images of reality and past, forcing me into an unbearable, chaotic ache as I lowered my heavy head.

"Prowl! Prowl, what's going on?!" Michelangelo yelled, his voice becoming distorted, "Hey, are you okay?!"

Overload... imminent...

I only raised my hand in response, signaling him to calm down and wait. With trembling servos I reached for the shard on the table and gently tapped it once, twice, three times. The levitating crystal swirled quickly on itself, and though its sound increased in volume, it was still very soothing. I focused on its melody which lulled the embittered, angered and powerful emotions of my Spark into a slumber. Slowly drifting away, the culmination of processors and databanks decreasing, the chaotic dance came to an end, and I found myself entirely composed and in control once again.

The human had no restraints of his emotions as he voiced his concern. "What the hell just happened?!"

"I nearly short-circuited." I replied, my vocoder lacking all strain and distortion that had previously impeded my speech, "Short-circuitry occurs when my motherboard is overwhelmed by multiple processors, data and memory banks, and thus causes my circuit board to overload and my systems to crash and shut down."

From his puzzled look and the lack of response, I rephrased my previous statement. "Being too emotionally compromised is what causes me to short-circuit, and traumatic events are agents that reinforce that probability. The only way to prevent this from happening is by calming myself and casting these emotions aside, and this crystal helps a lot. It emits a frequency that allows me to tap into my own mind, to bring every burdening thought and memory to rest and gain once again control over my system. By no means is short-circuiting fatal, but it causes me to be temporarily in stasis. That is why I stray away from emotions in general."

"Wow... How long do you stay in stasis?"

"That really depends. It can be hours or days, all of which are hindrances that I want to avoid at all costs. Though I have an unlimited amount of patience, I don't want to waste any moment that I have." I grabbed the crystal, clutching it tightly in my servo. "This crystal is what's left of Crystal City and the Helix Gardens. It doesn't only serve as a memorabilia of a once wondrous city or the aesthetic beauty of the Gardens. It's a reminder of what's been lost, and to whom it was lost. It defines me as the Autobot who will carry out the missions and bring us closer to our ultimate objective, which is the restoration of Cybertron. I can't forget – I will never forget – my homeworld and its many wonders."

"Hold on. I thought your home was destroyed."

"Cybertron still exists, but without Energon, the planet can't sustain life. Before we even think about how we can restore Cybertron, this war needs to end. We've been at war for so long that I'm beginning to doubt that there will be an end to it. If Megatron falls, anyone who is a Decepticon at Spark will take his place, and the war continues."

I shut off my optics for a moment, recollecting. "The alertness... The bloodshed... The destruction, the sacrifices and the struggles... For millions of years, war has become a daily routine, and I've grown tired of it. We've had so many dark moments during the war, and the only one who remained hopeful was Optimus. His sight goes beyond our own, and in those darkest moments, I fail to understand what he's seeing. We've already lost so much. Our Energon reserves are dwindling, and we've always been outnumbered and outgunned by the Decepticons. We are against all odds."

My optics flashed back on, I gripped tightly onto the shard and opened my chest. "Despite that, Optimus reminds us that as long as we're alive, there will be a future for us. We've succeeded so far because of our sheer willpower, our determination and our teamwork. Those are key factors that bring us the results we need. One day, this war will end and we can go home. That's what I have to believe in, or else I have no purpose in life."

I placed the shard back into my chest, careful so as not to damage it. My utterances hung heavy in this silence, and I looked down at the human. His eyes showed his bafflement, but also the lack of picturing this war and my situation. What else could I expect? What was I thinking, telling him the reality of wars and death that went beyond his own understanding? He was lucky to revel in this naivety and innocence.

I envy you, Michelangelo.

Those words resonated among my processors, and I turned to my computer to work. I tapped buttons, accessed files, read assignments and distributed tasks via comm-link while anticipating the 'Cons next move. The human boy stayed, and he was silent. It was unusual not seeing him react or say anything, which is opposite from what he usually does.

After over five minutes (in Earth terms) of burdening silence, the young adult said something very unusual.

"Prowl... Thanks."

The ridges of my optics were creased in puzzlement, and I turned around to analyze his facial features.

"What are you thanking me for?"

"You opened up to me. That's something you never do, not even to your own team. Look, I know there's nothing I can say or do that will change the past. What my old folks usually tell me is that we should learn from it, move on and live without regret. It's always easier said than done, but if it helps, you can count on me to support you all the way."

I was stunned beyond words, incapable of speech as Michelangelo continued. "I still think you're an unsociable workaholic and the prick extraordinaire from Team Prime, but you're an unsung hero, and that's pretty cool in my books. Just one word of advice: if you keep on pushing people hard, you'll push them away."

"Duly noted." I answered, interrupting my work as I distanced myself from the computer console. "I really appreciate your words, and I know what you're implying. No one can know about this secret."

"But Prowl, don't you think that people would treat you more seriously if you just... explained everything?"

"Sentimentalism doesn't work in my favor, Michelangelo. Emotion is what slows down the mission – you've seen what kind of symptoms I have that derive from it, and whether I'm patient or not, I just can't wait that long anymore. I want this secret kept under wraps, no matter how I'm regarded by others; everyone has their duty to fulfill, and mine is to be the reminder, not the distraction."

The boy folded his arms, shaking his head. "I don't like that idea, but... Fine. It's your choice. If you're going to be my guardian, then I might as well be your confidant... Under one condition."

I was a little reluctant, but unsure what he was demanding. "Name it."

"Just call me Mike, or Mikey. I like my nicknames."

I stared into his face, momentarily surprised. "Mike..."

"Yeah, that it's! Glad you finally got that right. Now, how about you get me down here so I can go back home before I get into trouble?" He tapped on his watch. "You know, because it's late..."

He jumped onto the palm of once my servo was close enough, immediately hopping off as soon as my servo was close to the ground. As I watched him run off in a hurry, he spun around and began running backwards. "Nice talking to ya, Prowl! Keep it up, and we'll get somewhere!"

He ran through the open door and disappeared into the hall. I gazed after him, reflecting on the discussion we had, then returned to the console and stared into the monitor. Despite my attempt to fully concentrate on my tasks, the deep contemplation persisted, and it was in the midst of it all that I noticed something odd about myself.

I felt... light, as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

I looked back at the door, momentarily contemplating. That young adult calling himself 'Mike'... For an annoying human, he was more than meets the eye. He was a loyal confidant... And an invaluable, trustworthy friend.

With that thought, I returned my focus to the screen and resumed my work. All the while, a smile etched onto my faceplate with a lingering sense of gratefulness, a favor which I was sure to return one day.

File 940522DBF: transmission terminated.

That's when it stopped. The video feed playing on my visor, accompanied by recorded processors and sentiments, reached its end. It's a video file which I kept safely stored in my data banks during all this time, because this memory is among those I cherish the most.

And as the memory fades into reality, I see him again. But all that's left, in front of me on a steel bed, is the pale, lifeless shell of a boy, disappearing behind a sheet.

Mikey's gone.