Author's Note:
Nightfall is literally my saving grace of this story. If it weren't for me writing in his POV and being a sassy silly little shit Prime that doesn't know what he's doing, I don't know if this story would get finished. XD So yes, while I'm having oodles of troubles trying to finish this, it WILL get finished. Nightstalker needs to finish her growth (which is fabulous. She barely resembles the femme she was in the beginning of this.) So bear with me, I'm going to try not to ever let there be more than a month's time between updates (though I think it's been a little over for a month for this update, dang it.) I'm in college again! Whoo-hoo. Hopefully it doesn't cut into my writing too much.
But, without further ado, enjoy this next chapter! :) Thanks for being patient watchers!
Megatron disbanded the Decepticons. He fled across Cybertron's surface, renouncing his ways after being possessed by Unicron.
Starscream fled in the opposite direction.
And Dreadwing knew where he was headed.
He followed him across Cybertron to Darkmount's peak. It was just like Starscream. He'd go to the Decepticon throne even though there was nothing left of the Decepticon cause. Likely, he was deluding himself because there was nothing left for him. Dreadwing's spark soiled black.
Nothing but his final penance.
When the slim mech transformed and approached the throne, Dreadwing tilted the nose of his alt mode down to follow. Transforming and landing behind him, Starscream squawked and jumped around to face him.
Dreadwing stared aloofly at him, not speaking a word. Starscream blanched, and his wings tipped down.
"D-Dreadwing!" he stuttered, striving to keep the conversation cheerful. "H-How nice it is to see you. You ah . . . You're not thinking of joining up with the Decepticons again, are you?"
He didn't respond. Jaw ticking tightly with muffled rage, his blue optics blazed at he began to walk towards the small seeker.
"O-O-Of course not," Starscream squeaked, backing away from him. "You're an Autobot now. That's right. Isn't it great that your son's still alive? Y-You're not still nursing that about Skyquake are you? I mean, you don't really think that—"
His servo snapped around Starscream's neck. The seeker gasped in terror, hands pulling at the one that hoisted him up high in murderous sight. Dreadwing's grip on his neck tightened.
He was calm.
He was calmer than he had been in vorns.
And apparently, his calm demeanor was more frightening and more dangerous to Starscream than his wild fits of rage. All of the seeker's vents were open, and he all but hyperventilated as he vainly pulled at the servo around his throat.
"You know what you have done to me," Dreadwing whispered, optics boring into his. His servos shook with fury, and his spark felt sick with resentment. "I am here to avenge my family, Starscream, for the things you have done to us."
Starscream kicked, vocalizer filling with static as he tried to defend himself. Dreadwing shook him like he was a rag doll. "You stood and watched as my brother died in battle. You desecrated his remains by raising him from the dead." Dreadwing's servo tightened until he nearly snapped the mech's neck. "You adulterated my spark mate. You tried to kill my only son, and you tried to kill my daughter, your own energon."
Starscream wheezed in terror, optics as round as dinner plates. Dreadwing strode forward to the awaiting throne, and he slammed Starscream against it, flaring his wings wide to intimidate him. Pleasure flooded his spark when the mech quailed in fear, a strangled sort of squeaking emitting from his vocalizer. "And now, you finally have the throne you so coveted," Dreadwing whispered with an unpleasant smile. He reached to his back, drawing his sword. Starscream's optics brightened to sunspots. "And I shall murder you atop it."
"No! No, I'm sorry, I didn't really mean to—!"
Dreadwing interrupted his pointless begging by lifting his blade and severing half of his left wing, grounding him. Starscream screeched in agony, jerking beneath him as the part fell away and energon spurted from the wound. Dreadwing lifted the squirming seeker and slammed him to the ground at the foot of the throne. He heard wings and the heavy landing of company, but he didn't look at them yet. Brandishing his blade, Dreadwing drove it through Starscream's remaining wing, pinning the seeker to the ground.
Starscream howled. Stepping on his opposite arm's wrist so he couldn't pull the sword out, Dreadwing looked to their company. The Predacons had landed with them. Predaking's luminous yellow optics surveyed the scene with a look of interest and genuine pleasure. He transformed and leaned against the wall, rumbling, "Please. Continue."
Starscream's optics widened to planetary proportions. "Wait, no! You can't let him do this to me! You can't—"
Dreadwing growled with an almost feral tone. "Cease your endless prattling!"
Before Starscream could shut his mouth as told, Dreadwing's claws jammed into the seeker's mouth. His claws sank at the base of the mech's glossia, and he ripped it from the Starscream's mouth, silencing his words forever.
He screamed, bucking wildly in pain as Dreadwing flicked the appendage away. Dreadwing smirked, letting the darkness seep into his spark, a mindless rage he had kept under lock and key for so long. He could practically feel the sparks of his mate and brother in the All Spark he was so close to the edge. He let it overtake him, finding solace and absolution within the madness.
"I take your glossia and arms for Ratchet, so your weapons cannot hurt anyone anymore, and to silence your lies once and for all."
If he tried to say something, it was a lost cause without his glossia. He shrieked as Dreadwing placed all his weight on his heel, snapping the seeker's wrist and disabling the use of his missile. He stamped on the other wrist, crushing it with his brute strength. Starscream screeched, a sound like music to Dreadwing's audios.
"What was that?" Dreadwing snarled. "I can't understand you!" He dug his heel on the edge of Starscream's chopped wing, grinding the jagged edge and sparking wires into the ground. Starscream's screaming reached an unbearable pitch as he tortured his highly sensitive wings. "Scream LOUDER!"
Willingly or not, Starscream could only oblige the enraged Autobot. Dreadwing grabbed his ped next, lip curling in disgust. "For Cliffjumper, Nightstalker's mate, I take your heels, simply because he despised the look of them."
With easy strength, Dreadwing snapped the first heel from the silver seeker. Starscream squalled, trying to curl up and away from Dreadwing, but he couldn't help himself at this point. Dreadwing smacked at his scrawny legs when he tried to kick him, and grabbing the second heel, he wrenched and broke the strut.
Dreadwing felt the thrill of having Starscream at his mercy after so long. The gratification swirling in his spark heightened to a razor edged degree as he watched Starscream bleed beneath his power. His screams were a release to his spark and eased his raging guilt. Just for the hell of it, Dreadwing kicked Starscream sharply in his side, causing the mech to jerk and choke on backed up energon.
"For my son," Dreadwing hissed. "I will take your wings."
That lost look Nightflier had borne when he spoke about the years he was grounded . . . That haunted look when he spoke of the agonizing pain he endured . . . Seeing it for himself when Megatron himself ripped his wings off. Starscream deserved no less.
Grabbing the mech's face, Dreadwing yanked his sword out of his wing and cast it aside. Flipping Starscream on his stomach, the seeker's shrieks rose in panic as he scrabbled on his hands and knees to get away. Face twisting maliciously, Dreadwing stamped a ped on his back and jammed his fingers into his body. Starscream jerked beneath him, and Dreadwing's fingers curled around the base of his wing.
With a violent yank, Dreadwing wrenched the wing from Starscream's back. The decibel of Starscream's screams reached a pitch that cracked the glass of Dreadwing's cockpit. Dreadwing tossed the first wing over the edge, and a lurid smile split his facial features at the reaction he received. Starscream thrashed beneath him, vocalizer beginning to fill with static he was screeching so loud. Seduced by his lust for revenge, Dreadwing grabbed the wing he had already sliced in two. A terrified whimper slipped from Starscream's vocalizer before this wing met the same fate as the last.
Dreadwing pulled slowly this time, drawing out the process as much as he could. He heard the gears in Starscream's body grind as he twisted on the ground in agony until the wing was yanked from his body. This time, the dismemberment was too much. Starscream's vocalizer fizzled out as he briefly lost consciousness—much to Dreadwing's disgust. Impatiently, he kicked at the mech's limp body, frustrated that he would pass out during this.
"Wake up!" Dreadwing snapped, optics blazing with obsessed hatred. He kicked the mech again, and Starscream began to stir with a sort of slurred groan. Angrily, Dreadwing hooked his fingers into claws and pierced the seeker's bleeding back right in the oozing wounds.
This time, Starscream's shriek DID shatter the glass of Dreadwing's cockpit. Dreadwing laughed, a laugh not his, at how funny it was. Hoisting up the smaller seeker, Dreadwing hurled Starscream onto his throne. The mech slump limply as Dreadwing prowled over to him, whimpering and gasping in horror.
"For my spark mate," Dreadwing hissed, wings flaring in white rage. "I take your spark. For myself, I will tear your spark from your body!"
Dreadwing grabbed his chassis plating, ripping it clear from its hinges. Starscream's spark glowed vividly in the darkness of the night when it was exposed, beating rapidly in absolute terror. Dreadwing's servo dove in and clenched around the sensitive, fragile organ. Pleasure filled his spark as he gently scratched at the edges when the clouds in the sky suddenly parted, washing the balcony in silver moonlight.
His ventilations were ragged as he froze, feeling a presence he hadn't felt in ages. Dreadwing trembled, servo unable to tighten any more. Blinking in frustrated confusion, he looked out to the moon that hung luminously in the sky. His sin exposed, Dreadwing froze like a deer in headlights, and his wings tipped sharply down.
"Ampere . . ."
His vocalizer rasped tightly. Why? Why now? He was so close he could FEEL Starscream's spark throbbing in his grip, and it would take so little to snuff his life . . . Dreadwing's throat tightened, and his jaw ticked as he warred within himself. Starscream sobbed in terror of him, and Dreadwing closed his optics. He shook.
Not now . . . She would come now. He was so close to releasing himself from all the rage, all the pain, and the fear that his family would come to further harm. Surely she understood that . . . Surely, she had to know WHY he was doing this.
But the moon stared down at him and his actions. She wouldn't look away, and Dreadwing was frozen beneath her gaze. Desiring the satisfaction he had chased after for so long, Dreadwing slammed Starscream into the throne again, glaring at the seeker that was literally dismembered and bleeding out beneath him. His fingers tightened a fraction as he ground his teeth, throat squeezing as he tried to ignore the light. He couldn't. It illuminated his actions, and it made the energon covering his servos gleam starkly in the night.
He trembled in indecision. He couldn't let go of this, he couldn't let go . . . He was right within his grasp! He had him!
Unwillingly, Dreadwing looked back to the moon that shone in the night. His creased brow slackened, and he shook his head. "Why?" he whispered softly. He knew the answer why. He just . . . didn't know if he had the strength . . . He closed his optics, servos loosening as he practically felt her essence wash over him, imparting upon him a peace he hadn't felt in millennial.
His shoulders slumped in defeat. He tilted his helm towards the moon again, gazing out with a soft vent.
She had seen the best and the worst of him. She understood exactly who he was.
And that was why she loved him, even beyond death.
He released Starscream. The mech slumped in the throne, weak, unable to help himself. An interested growl made him look back up to the Predacons in wait. He passed a servo towards Starscream, the mech's energon dripping from his fingertips.
"He's all yours."
Purged of the negative emotions that had haunted him, Dreadwing leapt from the pedestal and flew, leaving Starscream to his fate.
He resisted the urge to fly towards the moon. It was a fanciful thought, as if he would be closer to Ampere that way, but he knew better. She was with him, in his spark, in his memories. And he had a son that—
Wait.
What?
Feeling a sort of . . . gaping chasm where his son would be, Dreadwing hightailed it towards where Nightfall was. He KNEW his son was alive. He could feel him, just . . . he couldn't pinpoint him. He couldn't reach him.
He felt much better when he saw the group of transformers below and his son came into his line of sight, proving that he was there and well. Transforming and landing near them, he saw Nightstalker's optics brighten at the sight of him, as she exclaimed, "Dreadwing—!" and then seemed to catch herself. Almost helplessly, Dreadwing looked at his soiled servos.
"Dad?"
Dreadwing looked up at Nightfall who stepped towards him. Giving a sort of choking ventilation, Dreadwing strode towards them and picked up his children in each arm, hugging them close. They didn't ask questions, but allowed him to hold them. Vents staggering, Dreadwing buried his face into Nightfall's shoulder, breaths seizing as he tried to sort out his overwhelmed emotions. The moonlight poured over them, wrapping them in her embrace.
Nightstalker's fingers tightened around him. "Did you . . ."
She spoke with familiarity. Breathing in deeply, Dreadwing released the air, wings sagging in relief.
"No."
Her arms tightened, and he felt her give a kiss to his cheek. He moved to bury his face into her shoulder this time, carefully keeping any tears from falling. "You conquered him," Nightfall murmured in acknowledgement.
Finally, Dreadwing pulled back enough so he could look at their faces. A small smile began to pull at the edge of his lips. "I am at peace."
Nightfall grinned, and he flung his arms around him in a tight hug. Nightstalker smiled too, and she leaned forward to bop her helm against his. "It'll all be worth it in the end," she said.
Dreadwing looked at Nightfall again. "What is happening to you?" he finally had to ask.
Guiltily, Nightfall froze for one moment before he brushed it off. "Not much, what's happening to you?" Dreadwing frowned as he put them both down, and Nightfall immediately jerked a thumb to the All Spark container that held Unicron's writhing soul. "Just saving the world over here. Anybody know a good shelf we can put the ol' angry Unicorn on?"
He waved his servos before any of the Autobots could react. "Never mind, we'll worry about that later. First thing's first, we've gotta get this little girl," and he pinched Nightstalker's cheek, "to see her worried papa! I can't believe you guys just dumped Ratchet and Ultra Magnus back there! They've gotta be dying for some company, so let's go! Hotspot, can you guys watch the bottle of insane death god over here?"
"Oh SURE," Hotspot said with no small amount of sarcasm. "Just leave the Chaos Bringer with us, that sounds nice! We can babysit him and make sure he doesn't run off."
Nightfall snapped with a wink at him. "PRECISELY."
Dreadwing watched as these things transpired. He searched fruitlessly to pinpoint where Nightfall was in his chassis, and he couldn't, no matter how hard he tried.
Nightfall was avoiding the question. And Dreadwing was slowly piecing together an answer.
The seekers made it back to the two Autobots in question far before any land based vehicles. Ratchet was waiting eagerly to know of their success.
Any thought of Unicron was put on the back burner when he saw his little girl.
Nightstalker felt herself seized immediately in a crushing hug that lifted her off the ground. She tilted her helm into him, arms pinned, and she felt her spark break a little bit hearing a very thinly veiled sob of relief.
"I was so worried . . ."
Nightstalker's wings tipped at the tightness of his voice. "I'm okay, Dad," she said softly. She kissed his audio, spark swelling to be with him again. "Ultra Magnus is doing okay?"
A frustrated vent pushed from Ratchet that she was shifting the conversation away from her, and he leaned back to shower kisses on her face. "I was fragging worried about you, you little girl, and all you're worrying about is Magnus! Well, he's perfectly lucid and on the mend while I was over here falling apart!"
Nightstalker squirmed and tried to fight back a giggle at the assault of kisses. "Of COURSE I worry about you too!" She shrieked when he suddenly tickled her side. "But you seem pretty spunky! Ah—! Stop it!"
He picked her up again, nuzzling his helm to hers. "You beautiful, brilliant, FEARLESS girl!" He crushed her to his chassis again, rocking her. "I have never in my life been so, SO proud of you!"
Nightstalker laughed, shaking her head. "What? What did I do?"
"What did you DO?" Ratchet gave a laugh, nuzzling her again. His optics twinkled when he looked in her optics. "Nightstalker, you stood up to Megatron all on your own!" Nightstalker's optics popped. "You told him like it was, and by Primus, if that wasn't the most exhilarating thing I've ever witnessed! I am so PROUD of you Nightstalker I could give up my wrench throwing days for good!"
Nightstalker squeaked and giggled when he put another kiss on her. "I was taught well!" she squealed, laughing as he attacked her sides again. "How did you know that?"
Ratchet's optics twinkled. "We were looking for you, so naturally we had to check the security cameras. You were fantastic, Nights!"
Her wings dropped down. "You—saw that?" She bit her lip. "H-How many saw that?"
Finally, Ratchet slowed. "Only myself, Dreadwing, Cliffjumper, and Nightfall."
Somehow, Nightstalker blanched more. "Cliff?"
That kiss burned in her mind. So passionate . . . and she had fallen right back into it. She swallowed guiltily, but Ratchet shook his head at the panic slowly rising in her optics. "It's fine, Nightstalker. Nothing that happened down in that brig counts except that you had the strength and the courage to stand up for yourself when no one else could. For that, we are proud of you, Cliffjumper too. There's nothing to fear."
Nightstalker dipped her helm and nodded, taking to heart what he said. As she finally slipped from his arms, she smiled at where Nightfall was elbowing Ultra Magnus—who was frowning, as per usual.
"Ultra Magnus!" She smiled as she came over to him, gathering the commander's attention. "What happened? Are you all right?"
He nodded. "I'm doing much better now, especially knowing Unicron is . . ." He slanted his optics at Nightfall who grinned unabashedly. "Is like a lightning bug in a glass jar. Very safe."
Nightstalker snickered at his sarcasm. He shifted uncomfortably and looked back to Nightstalker. "As for your former question, I was attacked by two Predacons."
Nightstalker felt herself sigh. "It must have been Skylynx and Darksteel. They're just some turbo-revving dorks. I promise." When Ultra Magnus lifted a brow at her, she blushed sheepishly and rubbed the back of her neck. "Well, it's a long story, so I'd rather just tell it once with everyone here."
Nightfall nodded. "I agree. I have some news too, so we need to have a family meeting with everyone anyways."
"News?" Ratchet arced a brow as Dreadwing just stewed silently to the side, scrutinizing his son. "What kind of news?"
Nightfall opened his mouth, shut his mouth, and then winced. "I, uh, I'm not really sure, so I'll get into that when I get into it."
Catching his father's optics boring into him, Nightfall cleared his throat nervously. "Well, first thing's first, let's wheel the invalid down to the others since the NEMESIS is down for the count." Nightfall grinned at the annoyed Ultra Magnus. "Don't you worry, Captain! I've got everything under control!"
Well, everything but his own spark, that is.
Nightstalker's story was an interesting one as she detailed how she basically became part of the Predacon pack. Nightfall's news was . . . far more difficult to explain. He was one with the All Spark, that much he could gather, but he wasn't dead. So that was good. He just . . . wasn't sure exactly HOW to extract his own spark from the rest so he didn't send his soul into the afterlife along with all the others when he expelled the All Spark energies back into Cybertron's core.
Arcee was pissed. Nightstalker was panicking. Ratchet couldn't speak. First Aid was distraught. Dreadwing was furious. Sure, yeah, he'd admit that his actions were reckless, but what ELSE was he going to do when Unicron was about to consume the only thing that was going to let Cybertron bear new life? (Not to mention, he may or may not have been a little scared of the Chaos Bringer, Prime or not.) Nightfall knew he couldn't go back and change things, so instead he was trying his best to make do with the consequences he was stuck in.
"Okay, come on. If we think logically, if I put the All Spark energies in me, they can leave me just fine without taking my spark along with it."
Dreadwing just . . . stared. His dark blue optics bored into Nightfall as they stood on the edge of the rim of the Well of All Sparks. His gaze settled heavily on his son, ventilations tight at the thought of losing him all over again. He thinly hid it behind a rigid stance, a neutral gaze, and a taunt voice.
"And if it does?"
He searched his spark for his son, finding a void of sparks that was nigh impossible to sift through. His presence was THERE he just couldn't find him. First Aid stood with them, staring in frozen horror because he couldn't find an answer to their problem.
Nightfall scrambled for an intelligent answer. "W-Well, the point of this is to find out how to keep that from happening, not dwell on what we know is gonna happen if it does. Kay? You're really not making this easy for me, Dad, I could use a little help. I mean, Aid, give me something! I'm not a rocket scientist, but I mean, it's not like science can help us at this point, it's all freaky supernatural stuff, so we're kinda hanging out on a limb here and experimenting because this hasn't happened before, and if you could just give me a little bit of what you're thinking that would be wonderful because you've barely spoken two words—Oh Primus, I'm rambling. Slot. Slot, I'm rambling."
His wings fluttered and he drew in a deep ventilation. Gusting all the air out to an exhaustive degree, Nightfall looked back up at Dreadwing. The mech sucked in a sharp breath and he knelt down to his son's height, looking him directly in his optics.
"Nightflier," he rumbled in a hushed tone, "I'm going to tell you right now that I am terrified I'm going to lose you." His servos reached up to his shoulders, and he shook the smaller seeker. "Nightflier, I am TERRIFIED. I've lost so much, but you—you were my saving grace. And . . . If . . ."
Reaching up and gripping Dreadwing's wrists, Nightfall pressed his lips together. "I'm not going anywhere," he murmured sternly.
Dreadwing didn't blink. "Do you really believe that?"
It had felt like bravado before, something said just to bring Dreadwing's chin up again. Setting his jaw and optics hardening, Nightfall nodded.
"I'm not going anywhere."
In the lull in conversation, Nightfall watched the turmoil in Dreadwing's optics begin to settle; he began to grasp a small sliver of hope. A staggered blast of air brought their attention to First Aid who pinched his brow and rubbed his forehead.
"Theoretically . . ." he started, "Fli-Ni could be right. In the past, the power of the Primes was transferred between sparks, and it would not cause one or the other to lose their soul in the process."
"That's because the one giving the power was dying," Dreadwing pointed out, an edge cutting his voice.
First Aid winced briefly, but shook his head. "That's true, but theoretically, if a Prime were to willingly give up his power to another, step down as Prime if you will, he wouldn't lose himself in the transfer. If we treat the transfer of All Spark energies as such, it should be possible that they can be expelled without harm to Fli-Ni."
"So this is all hypothetical," Dreadwing grated out. "We're betting my son's life on chance."
"He's my brother too!" First Aid defended himself, armor bristling a little. "And what else can we do? There's no possible way to know the outcome of this."
Nightfall vented uncertainly and swallowed. "Guys, I promise you, I won't go anywhere. I'll just empty the All Spark energies, and I promise, I'll be right back." He glanced out to the group below that no doubt had their audio input turned up high to eavesdrop. His gaze settled on Nightstalker, and his optics softened. "I'm not allowed to go yet. I've got too many people to live for."
There was a soft pause, and then, that pause began to stretch to awkward as they realized no one knew what to say anymore. Nightfall began to back up, giving an uncertain skip/hop backwards. "Well . . . I guess this is it. Here I go." Stepping to the edge of the Well's mouth, Nightfall leaned over and looked down it's black throat. His wings fluttered nervously at the foreboding sight that awaited him when he dove into the belly of the beast. He took a moment to take a deep ventilation to steel his nerves and promise himself that everything was going to turn out fine in the end.
Swallowing, Nightfall stepped off the edge just as First Aid shouted, "Fli-Ni, wait!" Jerking and flailing a moment on the brink as he vainly tried to catch himself, Nightfall toppled over the edge. Transforming and jetting back to the top, Nightfall landed next to his brother who's optics were bright with a knee-jerk idea.
"Wha—"
"Fli-Ni," First Aid immediately interrupted, "the All Spark energies were contained in a relic of the Primes, right?"
Nightfall blinked. "Right."
His visor glowed. "And the only other relic you had on hand was the Matrix of Leadership, right?"
"Right."
He snapped and pounded a fist into his opposite palm. Nightfall jumped. "Then that's it! You're just emptying the Matrix, and not all of the energies in your chassis! Your spark is actually a part of you. The Matrix is a conduit, and while it is a part of you, it isn't IN you. That's why it has a casing. All of it can be emptied into another life form and still leave you intact."
Nightfall opened and closed his mouth. "But . . . I mean, Dreadwing had a point, the Matrix only channels its energies into another when they're dying—"
"No no no, stop that, I know that. I know." First Aid grabbed his cheeks, shaking his face. "Listen to me. I'm the doctor. I studied this spark stuff. I know what I'm talking about. Okay? Theoretically, if you chose you didn't want to be Prime anymore, you could have given the Matrix over to someone else or even emptied its contents back into Vector Sigma, right?"
"Uhh . . ."
"But you wouldn't necessarily die over that. We only know that the Matrix projects into someone else when the holder of the Matrix dies because it's necessary. If the holder dies, the Matrix needs a suitable successor because if the energies are in the dying mech's chassis, the energies die too. Make sense?"
"Well, yeah . . ."
First Aid's hands squished Nightfall's face up more. "Then this is going to work. Right?"
"Uh—"
"Stop that. I'm the doctor, and I know what I'm talking about. Tell me I'm right."
"W-well, okay, you're right."
"So you're going to be all right."
Nightfall swallowed and nodded. "I'll be all right."
"It makes perfect sense, Nightfall. This is going to work. All right?"
He nodded back at his almost frenetic brother. "Right." First Aid finally released him, and Nightfall looked over at his silent father. He nodded towards him, promising, "I'll be all right. I'll be back in a jiffy."
While it almost felt like grasping at straws, for some reason, it did wonders for calming Nightfall's spark. He stepped up to the ledge again, wings flaring. Maybe it was because First Aid sounded so SURE of himself. And it did make good sense. The more Nightfall thought about it, the more certain he was, so he leapt into the Well and transformed, soaring inwards. The massive tunnel was dim and long, but with his speed, he found himself at the core of Cybertron in little time. The bright lights glazed in his vision, and while he was still a little nervous, it felt . . . right. He wasn't afraid. Transforming and opening his chassis, exposing the lights inside, he fell inside the core without hesitation.
Ripping pain flared on his back. He felt the energies jettisoning as he released them, his spark lurching and feeling an enticing tug that he fought back. It beckoned him to leave his body that was twisting in pain; it beckoned him to leave his body and follow the All Spark energies. Violently fighting the urge to follow, Nightfall screamed, the pain sharpening while his energies felt drained. His body was shaking, wrenching in the blinding white light as the physical toll reached its peak. The last of the All Spark energies and the power of the Primes left him, leaving his spark feeling hollow and weak. He collapsed on his knees outside the rim of the core, trembling. He pulled the empty Matrix from his chassis, letting it clatter to the floor.
The pain hadn't stopped. In fact, it was . . . familiar. He shuddered, squeezing his optics shut as he dreaded the thought of what he knew was true. As the core erupted with thousands upon thousands of new sparks, he gave a gasping sob, lubricant welling as his arms hugged around his chassis. He wasn't even aware of his father and brother rejoicing that he was alive and their theory had come true. Reaching behind him, his fingers brushed a mangled wing that dangled on one screw.
Burying his face in his servos, he wept. The wing nearly pulled from its socket pulsated in agony, and he twitched with unbridled passion at what he had sacrificed to bring Cybertron back to life.
He was no longer Prime. The energies sustaining him had gone.
The mark of the bomb's trauma was back.
His wing dangled loosely, oozing energon and old burns matting his back.
Nightflier had reverted to his original state.