Chapter Fifty Two
"Its your fault".
"What?"
"Its your fault".
Rodimus spun around to face his accuser.
It was Optimus.
The once stern example of Autobot motivation and freedom staggered towards him, his body showing evidence of the most horrific of injuries. Struts were broken, metal sheeting had peeled away from his frame, internal componentry was exposed and degrading, scorch marks mottled his body, the glass on his chest broken, his left optic missing, his right black, energon blackened, and other useless bodily fluids dried to the walking spectre.
"Its your fault".
He accused once more.
"No! Prime! I didn't kill you! It was an accident!"
"Was it? Was it Hot Rod? Seems odd that you'd make such a statement, that you seem to know what I was talking of… a guilty conscience?"
"No! Optimus! Please, it wasn't me, it was Megatron".
"How convenient".
Rodimus regarded the former Autobot leader for a moment.
"No! Frag off! You're not Optimus Prime! You're a demon!"
Whether or not the messy figment before him was really Optimus Prime wasn't the issue, Rodimus wasn't even sure if it was a demon, but it wasn't Prime, it was The Prime.
Suddenly Rodimus was on the ground, Optimus atop of him, unnaturally powerful for someone who was supposed to be dead, for someone who was a ghost, from a massive gash in his face mask black thick coagulated oil poured out on the younger's face.
"ITS YOUR FAULT!"
He roared as he arch upwards, clasping his broken fists into a mangled heap that passed as a ball, he bought it down on Rodimus' face, smashing it deep into delicately formed plating. The deceased gave another series of shattering blows to Rodimus who was now rather disorientated. Wrapping his fractured and death caked fingers around the younger's neck he began to squeeze. There was a moment of realisation that this was familiar, but regardless of any awkward sensation of déjà vu, there was an understanding that he could die here, wherever here was. Rodimus pulled strength from somewhere he hadn't realised existed and slapped Prime's rusting arms from him. A swift kick to the abdomen sent Optimus sprawling across the ground, a leg catching on a distortion of the terrain, the force tearing Prime's already damaged appendage from his form. The former Matrix bearer roared with a rage that was not expected. He staggered upwards, grabbing his leg and then began to hobble towards Rodimus, he began to swing it as a makeshift weapon and then smashed it down on the younger's shoulder. Rodimus stumbled slightly downwards before regaining his composure and with a quick re-balance followed through with an upper cut.
The former Autobot leader fell back and landed hard, twitching. He wouldn't be getting up again for a while.
"Gitzzzzooooooaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrmauuuuulttt".
Rodimus stood over the former leader.
"You're not Prime".
He stomped his foot through the face, flattening whatever it was that past as a CPU.
"Its your fault".
A sudden jolt of pain ripped through his head, he fell forward onto the remains of Optimus, he craned his head and there standing before him was the former leader.
"Slag".
The headless Prime stood and grabbed him, the sharply fractured fingers tearing at his paint, there was a solid thrust and Rodimus found himself being flung towards the new comer.
"RODIMUS!"
Someone yelled to him, but he couldn't see them, and it certainly wasn't one of the dead Optimi, who were both now marching grimly towards him, the headless Prime being the most disturbing as his dead fluids oozed from the gapping wound on his shoulders.
"HELP! RODIMUS!"
It sounded like the voice of a femme, maybe… he couldn't be sure. But whoever or whatever it was, it needed help, and sure, it could have been a trick given his current situation, but trap or not, it was probably better then being here, now.
Rodimus turned and ran.
A quick look over his shoulder and he saw them keeping pace, even though they appeared as only walking. Rodimus transformed and accelerated, but another view revealed they were still within his range. A cold shudder passed through his Spark as it slowly dawned on him that wherever he was he might not be able to escape them. He felt his energy level start to dip as he pushed himself further, but then realised, they were slowing down, then they stopped. He braked and transformed, turning to face them.
They stood motionless, staring at him, well, the one with optics staring at him, about 10 human metres away. It was creepy. Rodimus took a few steps backwards before turning back towards his goal, the Optimi apparently having lost interest.
--
There are moments in life, moments of experience where an individual suddenly realises something has happened, usually something horrific. That sense was common across both human and Transformer species. When something happens so quickly that one is left wondering how it happened. That's what happened with Rodimus. One moment he was walking along the scruffy terrain that was starting to show more signs of rust and death the dim lighting offering an unsettling ambience, when he realised he was surrounded by pitch black.
"Rodimus".
The voice was now a whisper, in fact, if Rodimus' sensors weren't so acutely tuned from his apprehension, he would have missed it. It was confusing to him, as whenever the voice called to him it was coming from infront, but now it sounded like it was behind him, way behind him.
Something brushed against his upper arm. A hand. A cold, sticky hand.
He jumped, spun around, his air intake tanks flicking up into overdrive.
"Who… who's there?"
A touch to his back.
"STOP!"
He was then aware that someone was standing next to him, so close that he could feel the disturbance in the atmosphere about his form.
The fear started to seep into his soul, tearing away any bravery he possessed, the Autobot pivoted and started running towards… well… away.
He was now falling. He'd tripped. The loud clang of his body striking the ground rung out through the environment, increasing the speed of his fuel pump as he realised what this meant. A hand was on him now. Another and then a few more, he wasn't sure if they all belonged to the same entity.
"Rodimus, please".
The voice was a barely audible whisper.
Something in side him told him that that voice didn't existence, or it was just those things in this horrid place that were creating the illusion. Whatever it was that told him such also told him to get his aft up off the ground, ignore the hands and move on. Chances were it was going to get worse the closer he got to where he needed to be to end all this.
He pulled reserves of courage, or at least determination from somewhere within and pushed himself up.
"Fuck off!"
A human phrase he'd become rather fond of, much to Magnus' disgust.
He pushed at where the owner of those hands might be and connected with something cold and icy, he ignored the displeasure he had at the experience and marched towards where he hoped the centre of this was. However, the hands would continue to brush at him.
A flapping sound from over heard grabbed his attention; he looked up into the pitch and was surprised to see the outline of the organic bird. A crow, he believed it was called. Pitch black itself, but it was giving off an aura that enabled his optics to lock on it. It landed up ahead, its beady red eyes watching him for a moment before it took off again. Rodimus approached where it had landed, something was there, an object, in the dark he couldn't determine what, but the bird had been sitting at least at Rodimus' waist level.
He reached out with his hands, trying to feel for whatever it was.
"I implore, is there some body present?"
"Perceptor!"
"Yes! Who, may I inquire, is that?"
"Its me, Rodimus! I'll get you out of here, Percy, I promise".
"OH, I must say, Rodimus, that I don't think that is possible at this time. I appear to be trapped in some form of cage, and most interestingly there's no door or lock mechanism. Well, none I can locate in this current environment which seems to be unfavourably devoid of illumination".
Rodimus put his hands out and felt the cage the scientist was in.
"Well, then I'll smash the slaggin' thing open!"
He growled as he balled his fists and began to slam them down upon the cage, the loud clangs echoing outwards in a way that was rather chilling to both.
"Please, Rodimus! If you wish to assist me, I suggest moving on to the epi-centre of this environment, perhaps there you can find a method to co-ordinate my escape".
"Percy, I'm pretty sure this place sits outside the logic you're so fond of".
"Well, even in places of no logic exists logic! Even illogical patterns must follow a logical format".
"Perce, dude, we're smack bang in the Decepticon matrix".
"The what?"
Perceptor's ability to employ long winded semantics to express something that could be explained in a few words was lost.
"Yeah, I know this is probably going to blow that brain vault of your's wide open in an explosion of WTF but I ran into Sparkplug back there, and two dead Optimi and a whole heap of naked femmes all saying it was my fault and generally just being rather unpleasant".
"I say! How remarkable!"
"Perce, you can write all the reports you want about this after I get you out… I'm pretty sure it's giving way, I can feel the metal denting".
"Rodimus, I do not wish to limit your enthusiasm for my escape, but I must theorise that such a phenomena as a Decepticon Matrix, its highly probable that its intention to hold my person captive will not be easily swayed by you attempting to disrupt the structural stability of the ca…"
There was a tiny spec of light; it revealed itself with one of Rodimus' blows to the cage.
It grew into a small dot, then into a line which spread outwards into a crack, which jagged itself into something that could pass as the delicate and detailed tapering branches of a tree stripped bare from Autumn. A fragment fell from the cage, and another, and another. Perceptor gasped momentarily, Rodimus stood back not sure what was going to happen and then the cage that held Perceptor shattered into billions of tiny dots of light giving them both a view of a world they would wish they'd never seen.
"Rodimus! You di…"
And Perceptor was gone.
Rodimus told himself that Perceptor's spark, which it obviously was as his body was out there had been freed and was now seeking to reunite – he had to tell himself that, it was the only way he could feel any hope in this dreadful Pit.
Somewhere, Perceptor woke up, and much to his relief, it wasn't in the Decepticon Matrix.
Rodimus of course, didn't know this, and moved on, the small dots of light slowing fading away until he was surrounded by the pitch again.