Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers
Hasbro owns Transformers
So happy (very very late) new year! Sorry for the ( very very late) chappy! *sweatdrop* Things will still be a bit crazy on this end but rest assured I will always work towards updating. Love you all! Please review! And sorry for any mistakes this chapter was a monster. P.S. ...Did you think you would see the last of Hypogeum, hm? *chin hands*
P.P.S. I have a new Role playing blog on Tumblr! If any of you would like to role play the twins and Felicity with me by all means give me a follow! I'm super nervous starting over there but somehow I will dip my toes into it. Its called Sunny-and-the-city dot tumblr dot com. Drop an ask or an rp starter plz
Chapter 5 The Romeo And Juliet Part 6
Millions of years ago
Cybertron
Odyssis sat heavily on her couch and sighed. Later on in that cycle she returned to her office and excused herself. She was in a rare sour mood so no one questioned her and her friends were more than smart enough to not ask and pry about her recent discovery.
They kept quiet for a long while and acted like they never saw her walk out. They planed another night out and maybe this time at a different bar. Perhaps at a fancy hall.
She politely declined. She couldn't go home with another mech or even go out for a long while. The spot where Zion had taken in her spark still stung.
Her spark still hurt and felt like it was folding in on herself. She willed herself to get a hold of her emotions. She was in a higher position now. More responsibility, and that meant her life and office life was different.
She managed to collect her belongings into crates but that was it. The promotion wasn't immediate. But she felt like boxing things up would help. Boxing emotions helped. It helped a lot.
So, now, here she was on her very couch, reviewing those emotions and going over what her spark felt. Getting over a mech she fragged once should have been so easy but it wasn't and it made her frustrated and crazy.
Damn him. Damn him for getting her so tripped up into thinking fate and love could work.
Damn her spark for doing these weird things.
Damn right it would be the last time she would talk to him. After lying…
You're being to harsh. She told herself. Dramatic even.
Perhaps she was, but maybe...she should have let him talk. Maybe explain himself. What was there to explain. He willingly killed as a sport.
She huffed at herself standing up and getting a cube from the cabinet. She cracked it open and took a long drag from it. She placed her hands on the counter and leaned forward.
Another match.
Last time he would talk to her.
Pyro said there was another match tonight. Unexpected. It was to be a good one. Odyssis narrowed her optics, and flicking them to the holovid.
Was it the last time? Was it because he...was going to lose? Was the upcoming battle so bad?
She shook her helm. Right. It was just another lie and yet deep down...she knew it wasn't.
Zion punched the wall with a growl, denta bared dangerously in a snarl. His two closest friends were killed in the mid cycle match. Licinius pitted him and the femme he….not loved, not yet or for this matter, ever, cut off all ties. What more could he live for? What was his life now? Would his damnation further crush what little will he had left?
"Mech..."
"Be gone if you know what is well for you, my friend." His voice was dangerous and barely contained.
Krystos slumped his shoulders. Yet, he pushed on. "Zion you can't think about all of this before you face her. It will only destroy you. You will definitely lose."
"I lose even if I win." He removed his fist from the rotten, flaking wall of the training room. The dark shadows and dim lighting flickered and streaked across his frame and body as he moved slowly to stand. His shoulders were tense and his fists were still clenched. He was dangerous. He was an honorable and kind mech. His anger was something else to behold. He was dangerous when he wanted to be.
A frustrated sigh. "Zion…you haven't recharged..."
Indeed he hadn't. How could he? He would regret it later and perhaps during the battle. Though it wasn't the first time he had gone without recharge. The lithium would help him just as it had to. A growl. "Be gone I said." The mech wouldn't have a chance to say his blessing.
It was a voice he had not heard from the mech before and wisely he obeyed. He skittered out of the room and left the mech to his own thoughts.
When he was gone did the mechs' anger ebb away. His expression relaxed into despair and his hands uncurled from fists to limp twitching fingers. His knuckle joints stung in pain but it felt oddly satisfying. He lifted his hand and looked at the tips. They were dull.
That had to be fixed.
They would find him in the lobby awaiting for his name to be called for the last battle of the cycle. There in the dark, he was sharpening his fingertips with a stray piece of metal. Anything worked, really. His hands were living metal and each time they were sharpened, it stung. But only a little. It was enough to remind him of what was to come. It dug into his protoform. Like organic nails they grew and had to be trimmed or sharpened. Kaonite fingertips were what, after all, made them who they were.
Never did gladiators who were facing one another did so before a battle. There was no need. They would meet between the sand and the crowds and wish each other a farewell in the same place in a matter of minutes or less. That is, depending if the match was a good one.
A slave master collected him to guide him to his gate where he would walk onto the arena sands. He had done it countless times before and it wasn't necessary to do so now. Zion had long guessed this was only to assure the masters that their fighters wouldn't back out. They went over their routines. If their weapons were ready and if they knew who they were fighting.
Nothing more. It was mostly mocking if any other questions were asked. They didn't care for their well being, or if they had refueled. Asking if they had recharged or repaired themselves properly from the last battle was only to gauge if their performance would be up to par or not. An up to par slave was a good show to be made. A weak one was simply a let down and enough to signal the masters to procure another helpless soul as a slave. They they too would undergo the treatments required to survive the pits. By illegal inhumane means and measures. It was a right of passage to their damnation.
The hallways grew brighter and the ground gave way to sand blotted by fluids that were desperate for energon. Desperate for more. It smelled. Zion remained the same. He walked ahead of the master and went to his gate. The crowd was already deafening. It sounded of home. His fingers flexed slowly. He was twitchy. He was never was he like this. He shook his hands by his sides ridding the unease energy from his frame. He squared his shoulders. He had to focus.
From subspace he took out a vial of lithium and took a good swig from it.
The master raised his optic ridge but said nothing more. He wouldn't hear anyhow. The crowds beyond were a rush of static in the hall they stood in.
"Alvoria the Fair! Reigning champion of the Felix system!"
It was Licinius's voice that vibrated with the crowds.
"Ah, this will be good then." A barely aduble chuckle as the master backed away. "Primus at your side, fates at your back, and ballots in your favor!"
Zion remained silent. His steps were muffled. Zion remained focused on the arena and where the femme walked to the center. She stood and raised her arms as she walked a slow circle. She was a skinny thing but large in size and height. Her smooth plating was a deep black only found in the darkest of nightmares. Golden cloth hung across her chest and abdomen while a loin cloth of the same color graced her hips, fluttering gently with each motion. A thin wire graced her helm forming a sort of timid crown. Was she royalty? Zion tilted his helm. In her hand she held a lengthy golden spear. It was an odd weapon in this sort of environment. The tip was just as black as she.
"And from Kaon, our own reigning champion of the pits..."
The gates rolled away with creaky and grinding sounds, rotting right where they worked.
Zion walked forward, optics set forward and stride determined. He did not glance to wave to crowds that already chanted his name. His name did not need to be bellowed. The crowd almost blotted out Lincinius' voice as his name was announced in a dramatic drawl.
The crowd grew wild as he continued to refused to acknowledge them. The femme before him squared up and turned towards him. She smiled, white optics glowing in interest and something more.
His peds brushed along the sands as he continued towards the center.
"Hello, little Kaonite." Her voice was deep and had an accent native to her planet. He could barely hear her or make out her words over the crowds.
He only nodded once in greeting.
"Ah, so I see...silent type." She shifted the spear that began to glow upon the tip. It was a beautiful weapon up close. Zion nodded once again. He never spoke to his opponents until deemed necessary. It was bad luck and made the kill harder. Speaking brought upon cockiness and distraction. He remained silent. Focused. The lithium was already helping his mind to focus and lessen the lag he felt in his frame.
"And your weapon?"
Zion shook his helm. A small smile was brought to his lips. So. She was one of the few who did not know what made him so different from the other fighters here in Kaon.
His hands remained by his sides, steady and lessening their nervous motions.
"They yell your name and not mine. I see that this may be an interesting fight. One I intend to win."
Zion found himself sighing in exasperation. He stepped back poising himself in a defensive stance.
"You talk to much, Alvoria."
"Begin! To the death!"
As soon as the order was given Alvoria released a battle cry and lunged forward. Zion moved back pushing his peds against the sand spraying it up in a wall to distract. It was a dirty move but he had to know how his opponent reacted. She growled but paid no mind to the distraction. She wouldn't react to cheap moves. So perhaps she in turn made them. It was a large assumption but all assumptions had to be made to prepare for the fight ahead. He continued to move when she did so. Her motions had a rhythm. Surprisingly her large frame moved with grace he had never seen before. She was another species of living metal and in no way clunky or clumsy.
His optics watched as she held her spear close to the side of her frame, moving with it.
She was doing the same as he was. All he did was move. The crowd was growing impatient already but he did not pay mind to them. They were more blood thirsty than some of the fighters here below.
They would get what they wanted soon.
As for him, he saw enough of Alvoria. She held close to that odd spear of hers. It was time to see how she moved to his own rhythm.
He splayed out his hand and charged forward when she did so at him. With gritted denta he swiped hard, down across her chest. The satisfying sound of metal scraping metal crossed his audios.
He gritted his denta tightly, turning around and spinning to her side lashing out with his other hand.
She dodged, moving the spear out and swiping towards him. He jumped aside in time. They paused rounding each other. "Ah, so you use your very hands!" She charged again. The spear glowed bright as he bent backwards to avoid the flying tip. It buzzed over his face and in that split moment he noticed it.
Electricity.
She moved too quick for him to parry. He blocked the spear at his side but the tip still connected with his leg as he pushed it down in an arc.
A shock that left him a little dizzy made him grunt. He backed away and they both stood sizing one another.
Zion straightened his body, gaining a safe distance for now. Alvoria allowed it.
Her weapon suddenly crackled as she stepped forward. A smile spit her face. It was ugly. "Shocking?"
Zion hated when they talked. He rushed forward swiping this way and that. She raised her spear placing it in front of her body to deflect each measured attack. She was fast and strong.
They almost matched up one another but this was only the beginning of the fight. This was but foreplay.
She laughed. It wasn't pleasant. Too deep. She spoke in her tongue and it was just as ugly as her smile. Zion paid no mind as he pushed back against the spear he caught in his hands. He felt the electricity she weilded lick across his plating. She was something strange. Exotic.
Did she create the electricity or was the spear something of its own source? He was not familiar with her species.
He now knew her strength and she in return. The foreplay was coming to a close. It was now time to see what she was really made of.
The electricity licked down the spear. Her optics glowed along with it. It was something interesting that fear and carefulness gave way to that tempting excitement of the battle. His hands ached for something to dig into.
But that desire was only for the moment until he saw what those very hands did after the battle was won. What they could create and destroy. What death they had caused and held. It was the very cause of denigrating him. He lost focus. It only took an astrosecond.
He was slapped in the face with the tip of the spear. It dug far enough to etch out a nasty gash in his face and enough electricity to cause him to be blind. A cry left him as he stumbled back blindly. How long would it be until his systems recollected himself? Would they ever recover?
His audios were his only defense. The sound of her battle cry. She was at his side now. The rush of air was a sound enough to know she was swinging and not stabbing. He snapped his hand out to his side catching the spear and then spinning her so that they were face to face. She growl in frustration. She wasn't able to strike close. Spears were mid range weapons and that was his advantage. He danced around her as close as he could arms up in a defensive like shield, fingers curling to protect the weaponize tips.
In his blindness he could hear that smile cracking at the flexible metal plating upon her face. In his blindness he saw everything. The crowd, the blood to soon be spilled onto the arena sands. He saw Licinius smiling down upon him with that lewd and disgusting arousal he gained from his pain. He saw his lifeless friends being dragged from the arena and tossed away like everyday garbage, replacements taking their place just like that. He saw her face and heard her voice wishing him farewell.
His spark ached.
Alvoria back away and he failed to follow her.
His optics onlined, rebooting a fuzzy and blurry sight. It was just in time for the spear to be lunged at him. He caught it in his hands but was rewarded with a shock that seemed more powerful than the last.
The power grew as time went on. And the more he danced, the more she would become more powerful. He had to make this a quick kill if he were to survive.
The shock was enough to make him stumble backwards. He looked back up to her, expression still. He was focused and concentrating. But something in those shocks left him feeling oddly numb and drunk. Just like she had made him
Primus damn it.
This was nothing like her. This wa spoison. Burning and crawling across his frame. Nothign pleasant like she had caused. Fiery Odyssis...
A frustrated cry left him as he brought his hand to his side and made his fingers into a point intending to stab them through her chest. It would have been too easy of course. A chuckle rumbled from her as she dodged it. It moved into her shoulder but nothing was damaged severely. Just underlying soft metal it seemed.
Zion twisted his hand.
Many people watched the Kanonite battles over the holovids. Sometimes the crowds at the pits were those that many would not favor. Thankfully, for a small fee, those could watch such battles in the comfort of their own units and even make bets through specialized lotteries. And according to what Odyssis was reading the bets were not in Zion's favor.
She refused to turn on the holovid. She refused even when the numbers continued to go down. Was he already doing so bad? The match only began moments ago.
She refused to turn on the holovid but here she was...still watching those numbers as more and more bots took advantage of the odds.
Zion barked out a cry of pain. By now electricity was crackling across her plating and moving as she did so. She was the source of the power and the spear was simply the conduit for such energy.
Her optics glowed more fiercely. "The more you dawdle, you simply delay the inevitable."
Zion's frame felt heavy as more of the poison flowed through him. His helm felt fuzzy and his frame began to lag and feel heavy, fighting his very will.
That smile creaked across her face. "Allow me to be your freedom from this hell."
Zion steadied himself on his peds. He squared his hands in front of himself. The gladiator ignored her stupid voice. He ignored the crowd. He tried to focus on the fight. Nothing more. Nothing outside what was between them mattered. The kill was the ending goal. The kill would be all that mattered.
Nothing else.
He charged forward, legs feeling heavier than lead. He raised his hand and stabbed forward yelling out as he did so. The femme dodged, which he knew she would do. He circled stabbing his hand into her side. Quickly he ripped it out taking wires and soft living metal within his fist. He backed away shaking the black gore that dripped from his hands. He ignored the crowd that rushed his audios upon the hit. He charged again as she clutched her side.
She brought her spear up across her body to deflect another blow, but Zion went low pushing the spear aside. He jolted forward and shouldered her in the chin. As she recoiled he wrapped his arms around her, hooking his fingers into her spine. She yelled out.
He gritted his denta as he dug the tips into metal. She tried to push away, leveraging the spear in her hand.
But that would do no good. It was made for mid range not close encounters like this. What looked like a morbid embrace was a dance of death and life.
Electricity crawled across the both of them and he began to feel the hazy effects of it. Zion ignored this and dug into her back more and more. With each digging motion she yelled out in pain.
He enjoyed it. He loved it. He wanted more. His optics, once a crystal blue, began to flicker towards a muted and diluted white just as hers were.
Only when his survival was in the balance, would he give into the satisfaction of the fight. Out of all the pleasures of the pits. The so called pleasures every mech dreamed of. Disgusting, sour, and rusted pleasures. A cheap knock off the real thing...would Zion give into one satisfaction here in the pits.
And that was the thrill of the kill.
The kill.
A sound grew in his throat as his hands began to shake. It was released as a long battle cry as he gripped her back tightly and kicked her back. He was left standing, gripping fistfuls of spinal strut and muscle relays.
He hunched forward clenching the very pieces of his opponent in his hands. He walked forwards, frame dangerous and imposing. He opened his hands one finger at a time to allow the innards to slide from his fists.
The crowd chanted for death.
And it would soon come.
Odyssis couldn't watch the numbers anymore. She reluctantly turned on her holovid. She promised herself she would never watch one of these disgusting excuses for a sport but she had to. Only when the numbers dwindled did the panic set in. She rushed to her couch and remained glued to the holo when she saw him locked with his opponent.
He knew it would be his last time speaking her not because she deemed it so.
It was because he knew he was going to die tonight.
Alvoria remained where she was recovering from the pain that slid down her back. The electricity that crawled across her plating was chaotic and messy, no longer dancing across her in the smooth motions. They no longer rose and fell gracefully as they once did.
With pain came distraction from the power she held. Her hand clenched the spear tighter as she continued to yell. It seemed she didn't deal well with pain. That was a good weakness. Yes, a very, very good weakness. Pain was what Zion inflicted with those hands that could destroy…just destroy.
He rushed her again. She messily dodged still shaking from the wounds, but one of his hands hooked into her neck. Zion snarled into her face. For a moment Alvoria widened her crazed optics. Perhaps she had underestimated him. Every opponent did. They became cocky thinking they could take him. Him. The champion of the pits. His pits.
A voice in the back of his helm was disappointed as it denied those claims.
Be gone. Allow me to survive however I may.
He watched as the black liquid that was her blood crawl down her neck and the side of her body. The blood dripped upon the sand that hungrily drank.
Despite her wounds the panic gave way to something calm. The electricity across her plating calmed. Her optics sharpened and then they dimmed. Not a moment later were they onlined again. The spear was no longer in her hand.
A smile creaked across her lips.
Zions hands were something she wouldn't necessarily forget. They were dangerous and alluring. They moved with a grace she had never seen before. They were just as mysterious as he was. They traveled her frame when they interface, touched her in places where she didn't even know could set her sensors aflame. She had seen and witnessed what they could do. Create and undo her in the best of ways. He had known they were meant for something else. But this...was not something she would ever know. The way they were sharpened into deadly daggers. The way they sunk into the metal so easily. Odyssis couldn't hear the sounds of the arena and she doubt she would ever hear them. But she could only imagine what sort of disgusting crunching and squelched they made as he tore into her neck.
The femme covered her mouth leaning forward, seeing the energon run down his frame from previous wounds. She saw the black run down the femme's frame. She was such a dangerous foe and she didn't even seem shaken by the living dagger in her neck. As a matter of fact she seemed too calm.
Was it a malfunction in her vision? Was it the holovoid? Her spear. Was gone. "Where the hell…?"
It was only a moment later when the femme pushed and turned him did she knew where it went.
She screamed.
Zion noticed her smile. The weapon she once held in her hand? It was too late. He was too surprised by the femme gripping his arm and ripping the living dagger out from her neck The hand that held the spear was still by her side unmoving. With one hand did she manage to spin him on drunken peds. She suddenly backed away as if she was spinning a partner on the dance floor.
The world spun but came to a deafening halt as the sound of splitting air from behind ended with a sharp sound of metal sheathing into metal. Zion's frame froze as the spear ran through his chest.
Alvoria was off to the side recovering from the blows. She quivered not accustomed to pain. Being a champion, one was used to inflicting and not receiving blows. The femme growled a strained grunt as she walked around him raising the hand that held the spear.
Her hand quivered and shook as if she was holding a heavy mass within the clutch. She walked with a slow, confident, and predatory stride. The loin cloth swayed as she walked. That smile continued to split her face. This time she didn't say anything. Her optics were sharp as they remained on him.
Zion kept his gaze upon her as she walked into his line of vision. She held the spear within her invisible grasp. Electricity leapt from the control.
It took a moment for his mind to catch up. The electricity was but one of her capabilities. The magnetic pull she held upon the spear that was felt through his very frame was her other. The electricity was lazy as it seeped into every limb. His spark felt like it was being clutched by her very hand. She looked up to the crowd as if urging for their shouts to be louder.
Alvoria raised her hand more, showing that it was her indeed that would slay him. She twisted her hand and the spear obeyed turning in sync with her motion.
Zion refused to yell in pain and instead grunted a long sound from his throat. He bowed forward gripping the spear but it spun despite his black and energon slicked grip. With weak desperate motions, he attempted to pull the spear free but within her steel grip it remained.
She turned back to him, the tip of the spear glowing menacingly. He fell forward frame feeling heavier as the poison crept more into his frame. Instead of the spear pushing out of his chest, upon meeting the ground, he remained where he was upon the length. Limply his arms dangled by his sides, hands brushing the sand. Energon began to dribble from his lip as he stared at the sand below. The crowd was beyond what he had ever heard before. It was too loud. Everything screamed in fire he had never felt or known before. What was this?
Was this the death he predicted? Was this it? Would it be so bad? Wasn't being free from the pits his livelong wish?
"You will meet your end soon, little Kaonite." Alvoria's deep voice rumbled from above.
Her peds came into his vision as she crouched in front of him, her one hand cupping his chin. With flickering white optics did he look up into hers. His helm lolled within her delicate almost loving grip.
"Your last words may be said now. I will allow this."
Last words? Funny how he never thought of them before this moment.
What would he say?
What could he say…?
"Get up..." Odyssis hands were glued over her mouth. Through her fingers she bit back sobs. Everything she had said before was regretted. And the mech she saw before her wasn't disgusting. Not a bastard or any of those cruel names she had claimed he was. She realized too late that she never wanted it to come to this. She would never wanted her last words to be something so hateful if she had known. Not like this. Primus, please not like this.
He wasn't getting up, speared on her weapon like a wild trophy animal. This is not how it would end for him. Her, watching helplessly as he remained defeated. No one deserved this. Not even him...no one...damn this sport. Damn those that gained credits and pleasure from this. Damn them all for placing living creatures in the pits like animals.
So many were yelling for Zion to stay down, others for the killing blow. It broke her spark. Animals…all of them.
She felt her tanks flip flop.
He knew he would die. She steeled herself.
Just when he prepared his last words, only he would say them to himself, he offlined his optics giving the advantage to his opponent. The unspoken yield.
She spared him a chuckle or words. She seemed to be honorable when it came to the kill. With his kind he could respect that. She had been a worthy opponent.
When the spear glowed again and was slowly taken from his chest did he yell out. When the spear was taken out of his back did he rest upon the soft sand. The gladiator slowly rolled onto his back, his mouth remaining agape to allow more air into his frame.
Energon began to puddle in his mouth. He spat the energon, splattering it upon his face. Energon thinly trailed down from his lip, down his chin, and neck. A shivering hand was brought to his chest clutching the wound.
And within such a moment did he find the stars within night sky to be beautiful. Never would he see them like this again. Never would he see fiery Odyssis again. His spark seized within it's casing as he thought of her.
The spear slowly floated into his vision, aimed for his chest. Alvoria stood to his side. The smile muted. Her optics glowed as her hand remained steady by her side.
He could feel the sand drink his energon greedily and dig into his wound with a gritty, burning sensation.
The spear spun gently, gracefully, suspended in the air.
She spoke in her tongue and then his own. "May the gods have mercy upon you, warrior." Warrior? How gracious. He was but a slave.
He couldn't accept his death like that…
Not like this…
::I'm watching you…::
Zion remained still. Was he hearing voices?
::Odyssis…?:: He knew who that voice was all too well. Despite everything his spark still leapt upon her voice.
::Yes, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for everything. I can't lose you. Get up, please, Zion please. I don't want to lose you. I can't.::
Her voice was quick and panicked. Any moment the spear could have come down onto him but it didn't. The spear remained steady. Her hand remained steady.
::Get up! Zion!::
He had never heard someone scream for him to get up and continue on. The crowds were wishing for his death but just one voice was all that mattered.
The spear came down.
Odyssis remained glued to the holovid holding her vents as the spear came down. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She screamed out not bearing to see it. The crowd cheered. She choked on her sobs holding her hand to her mouth. Her tanks rolled violently, a dry heave breaking through her sobbing.
The crowd continued to cheer but the voices changed from the chant for death to something more excited and feral. She looked back up. The spear was dug into energon soaked sand where Zion had once been laying.
Odyssis smiled, a hysterical laugh breaking from her lips. And then another.
::Primus damn it, fight Zion! Fight!::
She sobbed.
As soon as the spear came down he rolled to his side, pain receptors were bypassed and forcibly shut down. Energon pured from his chest and mouth as he stood onto unsteady peds. He stumbled but finally held his stance firm.
Alvoria slowly glanced up from the ground where he once was and then to him. She set her jaw.
"You do not give up, Little Kaonite."
Zion shook his helm. "My name..." A shaky exhale. "My name is Zion of Kaon." He grounded out in exhaustion. "It would be wise of you to remember it, Alvoria."
"Fool, you speak as if you have a chance. My poison runs through you." She turned towards him fully, holding the floating spear next to her. Small arcs of electricity continued to crawl across her frame. Zion shook his helm to rid himself of the blurring vision.
Something else ran through his lines. Something else he never knew would come back to him. He smiled, and it was just as drunk as Odyssis had made him. Pain receptors were numbed and muted. A blocker was placed on them ensuring that, for a few vital moments, he would be allowed to not feel physical pain.
Zion waited until the fire across his neural net gave way to numbness and only then did he move. He would fight as she had begged him. A long sigh of relief left him.
For now he circled her, regaining the strength and distance he had lost. Alvoria mirrored him, electricity continuing to crackle and lick over her frame.
The crowd was growing louder and louder. He could barely hear her speak at times. He only saw moving lips. He glance up towards the crowds and then back to Alvoria.
She took his glace as an opening. She threw the spear toward him. He barely had enough time to dodge to the side. The spear was close. He watched as it trailed over his shoulder, electricity crackling and licking at his face.
The spear passed. He dropped onto all fours, energon slapping the sand as he moved with harsh motions. Zion coughed holding his chest as he glanced back up. He was growing tired. Her hand swayed in an arc, moving the spear to circle back around. She began to walk forward.
His vents were wet as energon began to bleed into them.
His frame felt hot and the ground felt unsteady but he continued to focus. Even when the walls of his vision became bleak and dark he pushed on.
The gladiator stood once again and charged forward. He felt the spear behind him. When the whistle of the tip cut the air too close to him, he would duck down.
The spear flew past her and rounded again. He had to get closer to her. His mind searched for her weaknesses.
He knew the spear was controlled by her and her alone.
Her arms needed to be rid of. That was a given.
Rid her of her limbs and kill. The gladiator had to end this before he bled out too much. He was a strong mech. Champion for not just any reason.
He had stamina. He knew how to survive when it came down to the wire. He knew how to use his enhanced senses and strong frame to his advantage. But he had his limits.
The spear arched and was sent towards him again. He dunked down choking on the energon that welled in his throat. Despite not feeling it, he knew his frame was hurting.
He spat energon aside, gasping for vents as he looked back up. The spear came back around faster. He rolled but not fast enough. The spear pierced his shoulder. A wet bark of surprise that was bit down into a growl left this lips. There was no pain. He laughed.
"You should have yielded!" She bellowed confused as to why he was laughing.
She was walking faster towards him.
A warning of dangerously low energon levels flashed in his vision. He was losing time. And the threat of no longer being the entertainment Licinius craved was in the back of his helm. He did not fear for his life, he feared that he would not see Odyssis.
Odyssis was cheering him on now. The femme that vowed to never see him again because of who he was. She was watching and cheering him on. The only cheer in the crowd that mattered was hers.
The spear rounded again. The thing was clunky, and took its time readjusting its projection.
And that is where he would take his time and use it. Slowly he would make his way to her. Slowly. If not that way it was her rushing him with that same confused look.
With each pass of the spear he dunked and moved. She was wearing him down with each pass. To her it was a waiting game. How long would it take for him to fall to his side in a heap and simply die?
Zion wasn't one for dying.
He stood upon shaky peds and gripped his hands into fists.
Closer and closer. His hands craved to rip into plating and end this fight that drew on for too long.
Alvoria raised her hand and the crackle of electricity stung the air and his frame. The poison within him was making his frame heavy and weak. He gritted his denta. He moved forward. Pain receptors were slowly coming back online. The neural block was fading. Another pass and the spear clipped his side. He grunted but made his way to her.
Zion continued to stumble towards her. He was hunched over and venting through his mouth, with each hot vent a cloud of condensation formed and blew away in the wind. Energon continued to pour from the wound within his chest and shoulder.
Alvoria stopped her advance. She looked toward her spear. It dripped with his energon.
This surprised him. Alvoria. The great. Champion of her galaxy.
Was it...was it fear he saw?
A crooked smile grew on his lips. "Ever seen a dead mech walk, Alvoria?" He bellowed.
The spear flew by his helm breaking a piece of his mouth guard. He didn't flinch. He found pleasure in her fear. Fear was always an opponents' downfall. Zion felt none when he was here. He felt none because of the death that always hung over their helms. Off or within the sanded pits of Kaon. The spear snapped back into her hand and she growled in anger. She rushed the final distance and hacked the spear towards him.
Zion dodged it and grabbed it by the tip. His hands dug into the black jagged metal stained by his very blood.
He pulled her close. His peds were shaky but the crazed look in his optic never dissipated. Exhaustion. Determination. Hunger. He never took his optics off of her.
The will to live was something to never be trifled with. The will to continue on when all those around you wished for your downfall.
The will to carry on and do what must be done.
She released the spear and once again the weapon was controlled by her hand. Zion gripped her shoulder, fingers digging into her armor. From a side scabbard she brought forth a dagger with her other hand. It was just as jagged as the spear, made of the same metal.
With a war cry she stabbed it into his side. He didn't falter. The blade bit and burned but the pain wasn't something that bothered him.
"Why do you feel no pain?!" She barked.
Zion smiled. It continued to be crazed and only she could see this side of him. Only his opponents would see this different side to him.
With the will to survive came the instinct. And with the instinct came how to survive by any means necessary.
He would live another day. But she would not. He vowed he would live. He vowed to Odyssis he would. And vows were something he did not break.
He began to feel pain. But all sorts of pain. He felt the pain of losing his fellow slaves. He felt the pain of never having a life outside these decrepit walls. He felt the pain of his damnation. He felt the pain of his wounds and his spark needing to be close to the one femme he never thought he would give his spark to.
Yes, Zion of Kaon felt pain.
"I feel pain just as you, Alvoria." The spear round and missed him.
Was her confidence something to be turned to shackles so easily?.
"You have poison within you, you have wounds that the sand drink blood from, you saw the face of death and yet you remain strong. You face me, Alvoria the-!"
The spear came around and Zion pushed them both. He wrapped his arm around her throat and held her tightly. His aim was right. The spear rounded and struck true.
The will to live was something Zion knew very well. Because living was pain. The spear had sheathed through them both. Within his hold Alvoria gripped the very spear she controlled. Desperate gasps left her as she scrambled to take the spear from her body. Zion held her close to his frame gritting his denta from her strong struggles.
His legs shook and his vents were choked. His optics were offlined as renewed pain bloomed across his chest. Her living beat began to slow. His own remaining strong.
She gripped his arm that held her. He bowed his helm.
"You fought honorably, warrior." He whispered.
Her struggles became weaker. Black blood burbled from her lips. She gasped as she tried to cling to life. It was harder than it seemed. Zion knew . But when one had a will to live for something, for someone, it made all the difference. For the glory, for the femmes, for the fame, or for a single spark that continued to call to his own even now. What did Alvoria have to fight for? Glory didn't seem enough. Fame? What was it she fought for?
They both fell to their knees still connected by the spear. Weakly he placed his hand over her own that gripped the spear. The control on the spear was weakening. With a curt thrust and grunt he freed them both.
Gently, he placed her upon the ground. She stared at him gasping and choking. She reached for him but the hand fell limp.
Whatever she wished to say, it fell on deft lips. She hung onto life for a few moments before she gave way to death with a breath. Alvoria could no longer cling onto her life. What was it she lived for?
The spear gave way from her invisible hold, the energy dissipating and the spear no longer stiff. Her optics flickered offline yet her lips curved into something he had never seen before.
Zion set his jaw. It seemed he was simply asking the wrong questions. He looked over her frame once more.
It was what she died for.
Using the spear he stood upon shaky peds. With force he drove it into the ground next to her.
It was at that moment the crowds exploded into cheers and Zion noted them. He looked to the crowds then. His name was announced as victor.
So many moments ago had they been wishing for his death and now they screamed for his victory. He slumped his shoulders and a wet vent left him. His neural net were shot, his frame felt heavy. He would live for another fight. Live for a while longer. Live to see her again.
The mech smiled up to the night sky and offlined his optics. Everything felt saturated and too heavy.
:: Odyssis?::
Her voice came immediately after.
::Yes, Zion, yes…?::
He onlined them looking up to the crowds. ::How about another cube sometime…?::
The watery laugh that broke through the communication link was music to his audios.
Licinius watched as Zion slumped to the ground in exhaustion simply gathering himself.
"Hmn, for sure I thought he would be done for, creator."
Licinius was broken out of his hungry stare, upon the mech and turned to his creation. "As did I. But he never fails to do as I tell him. Perhaps there is still something worth keeping him, Hypogeum."
"He is my favorite, Sire." She smiled skipping away from the ledge to pluck a cube of energon off a tray a servant was offering.
"I know." He looked back to the gladiator below. He was standing upon shaky legs and moving to the gate that was opening for his exit. As he moved he held his chest and limped. Licinius licked his lips.
Indeed. He was his favorite as well.
But there was also the question that burned in the forefront of his mind. What made him decide against his willing death, that was to the point of being so unbearably delicious, to stand and fight again?
He looked back at the corpse of Alvoria. Her slaves fell next to her body and grieved their champion.
Licinius had optics everywhere.
He raised a hand and beckoned a slave over. He stood at attention, bowing. "Where is Krystos? I want him to follow that femme of his again."
The Pit Master narrowed his optics upon the smiling Zion.
"And I want her helm."
"Yes, Pit Master. The message will be sent and your will will be done." The slave bowed and rushed off of the balcony to fulfill his task.
His lip curled upon the words. No one would deter his Zion. No one would play a role in who lived and died in his pits. No one but he was allowed to interact with his champion. He was his and his alone. Only his.
Hypogeum frowned upon her sire's angered filled expression.
Zion continued to speak and smile weakly to himself as he moved towards the gate. As soon as he was gone from sight did he back away and roar in anger.
It was a few cycles later that a quiet knock woke her from her light recharge on the couch. She lifted her helm slowly, cringing as a spinal strut popped in her neck. Odyssis narrowed her optics at the door. Was she hearing things? Another rap at the door. It was gentle and polite. It seems she wasn't. She stood on shaky peds, her legs having turned numb from sitting on them. She placed her hand on the panel to open the door.
There, Zion stood tiredly. His shoulder was pressed into the door frame. Her optics were tired as they look over him. He was healing from the last fight. The plating on his upper chest was marred and mismatched by primer and nanobots doing their job. His plating was scratched and dented. He didn't look as bad as before...but..
His stance wasn't lax and easygoing but limp and exhausted.
"I had to see you as soon as I could." He breathed. His optics were dim but deep within they held affection.
Her optics never left those crystal blues. She nodded once her hand reaching out to his. Gently she pulled him into her unit and closed the door. Odyssis guided him to the couch, offered him the blankets and plush cushions. He sat with a cringe and a sighed grunt. She was gone to the kitchenette and then back to him
"Zion." She stood before him offering him a cube of energon. He looked to be in pain..
He shook his helm.
"You need it."
"I am not here to take what little you have. I am here because-"
She sat next to him cutting him off. She felt him stiffen as she wrapped her arms around him and held tightly. "You wanted to have another cube with me." She mumbled into his plating.
"Indeed..." He was still not convinced.
"We need to talk." Again she murmured into his chest.
He relaxed, a heated gust leaving his vents. "Yes. Yes we do. And I need to apologize."
Odyssis backed away coolant in her optics. Never did she ever wish to see him almost die like that. Never did she wish to see him so…
She looked away.
Not like the killer he was or had to be in order to live.
"From the beginning. Tell me everything."
"Of course."
"Please, no more lies." She shook her helm still refusing to meet his optics.
"I promise." He lifted her helm by her chin with gentle hands. She didn't think about what those hands could do… or rather did.
Odyssis blinked away coolant. She looked back up to him. "Good. Because this isn't goodbye." She sighed.
Zion smiled. It was crooked and halfhearted as he finally took the cube from her.