Fire of Youth

Chapter 37

**Note to RapierDragon: Holy shit you didn't need to binge all of it in one sitting! x'D But thanks for the info that was interesting and something I didn't know. See? This is why I love this! I teach you guys stuff and you teach me stuff. :D As for the kitsune, she's basically a combo of both genders: voice/personality of one, body of the other. And since there is no canonical proof of Cybertronians having a biological sex (canonically they are an asexual race) this is considered normal. So yes, it is entirely possible for a female frame to have a male voice and vice versa. As I said to another viewer, their referring to themselves as "he" and "she" is mostly because of human habit of gender-labeling things, so going along with it makes interaction with them smoother. They refer to the kitsune as "she" because of the gender of her voice print. :)


To have a Predacon whom he had insulted welcome him into her home was, at its most fundamental level, an altogether unusual thing. To then be ushered to a low table carved out of the stone in said home and offered a steaming cube of Energon by the same fox proved too much for his battle computer. He felt the circuits begin to short as he desperately tried to find the rationale behind her amiability. A spurt of paranoia made him scan the cube, though to his intrigue it was ordinary Energon with a few metal particulates and oxides added, none of it dangerous. A furtive glance to the side and he saw Arcee appeared to harbor a similar suspicion of a trick, but to his surprise she took a sip anyway and gave a pleasurable little noise. Miko bore no such suspicion over her own drink, a concoction of hot water infused with plant life she had called "sencha."

Though still suspecting a trick, he gave his cube one last scan and followed suite. It was hot, it was smokey and tangy, and it was stiff. He liked it. Definitely better than standard medical grade. How long had it been since he'd drank from a cube rather than be fed by an intravenous drip?

"This is quite good," he complimented. "Thank you, er –"

"Foxtrot," the Predacon introduced herself, smiling.

They introduced themselves in turn.

"I must apologize for the state of my home," said Foxtrot in some embarrassment. "It has been some time since I last entertained guests."

Miko waved dismissively, "Heck, we live in an old airplane hangar in the desert. This is way nicer."

Over their respective drinks they told of their reason for being in the area. He tried to keep it to the bare minimum out of caution but Miko did not feel the need for such reservation. The girl had not steered him wrong yet so he allowed her to update Foxtrot on the current state of affairs, which dismayed and intrigued her in equal measure, though she never interrupted the flow of the story. For someone who had been so excitable out in the field she was a remarkably calm, courteous listener within her own home. With the little survey drone above her helm illuminating her the fox beast put one hand on her hip and shifted her gaze evenly between them as she processed their request. Much to his chagrin he could not read her; her field, her expression, and her optics she kept free of any indication of her coming decision. Part of him admired her for it; perhaps she was not so trusting as she had led them to believe at the Takayama shrine to the north. It was tactical, he mused, to lead three unknown variables to an underground lair to negotiate on her terms, however he admitted it did not feel as if they were hostages. The atmosphere she had nurtured was too cordial.

"Your offer intrigues me," she declared through a smile. "But I will need permission from my lord first."

"Megatron?" hazarded Arcee.

The fox beast's optics widened only for them to roll languidly, "Ugh, not him. He is so boring. Destroy this, destroy that," she droned in a flat voice and gestured left and right in graceful wrist flicks. "Honestly, he is like an angry little child throwing things around the room because he is unhappy he did not get what he wanted."

Arcee scrunched her faceplates and gave her a peculiar look, "That's not...quite how I would describe a ruthless warmonger, but...I guess you could look at it that way."

"From what I understand, this war of yours was started by jealously of power run rampant," huffed Foxtrot. "Throw your weapons technology in with civil unrest and –" she shrugged. "That is what happens when rulers get fat and lazy, content in their positions and in their power. Thus, they are uprooted. Your kind started a krnijbavyrna but you cannot decide who will rule, and so you continue to fight. Very wasteful."

His brow ridges furrowed. "A what?" he wondered.

Foxtrot eyed him in surprise. "Krnijbavyrna, the kingsbrawl. It was the formal process we used to select our rulers. Trial by combat."

Arcee frowned and silently went back to her cube.

"Oh don't look at me like that," scolded Foxtrot. "It was a formal affair. With rules. No cheating, no killing, and the loser became the advisor."

He noted the fascinating information down for later. No archaeologist had ever found evidence of a functioning government system. How she remembered such an acute detail was puzzling however – Grimwing's memory was nowhere near as concise.

"So who are you taking marching orders from?" pressed Arcee.

"My lord, Gong Knell."

He shared a quizzical glance with Arcee. "Who?" he asked.

Foxtrot giggled, "You moderns. You sound like little children with all the questions you ask! What is this, mommy? Who is that?" her expression became more serious but the smile remained. "Gong Knell is my commander, my alpha, and my emperor. I act at his behest. To do otherwise would be a great disrespect to all he has done."

"Could you take us to him?" wondered Miko through wide eyes.

"Naturally," smiled Foxtrot as she took the now empty cubes from them. "He will want to discuss this request in person."

"That's oddly trusting, bringing two armed strangers before your master," he noted.

Foxtrot smiled back at him, "I could simply run the message to him, of course but – well, he would appreciate your company, request or not. He does so enjoy conversation with visitors. He has very few these days, you understand, so you must forgive him if he tries to extend the conversation past what is strictly necessary."

Being lonely, he supposed as she disappeared into what he assumed was a store room, was as good a reason as any to to desire physical interaction and verbal discourse. He certainly wasn't going to complain about it – hospitality and genial conversation were rare commodities during wartime, and to the right person were more valuable than the most well-stocked supply depot. But even the most socially starved individual wouldn't invite someone toting weapons into their home without some guarantee of their good behavior. To rely solely on trust would be dangerously naive and Foxtrot, he was fairly certain, was not naive. Boredom did not beget naivety – in his experience it usually begot devilish scheming. When Foxtrot re-emerged he remembered some of those schemes all too well, yet from all indications Foxtrot was above such playful pettiness. Interesting.

She bowed, "My lord is some distance away. Ordinarily the journey to him would take a few days –"

Miko groaned.

"–but I noticed you arrived to Wakakusa via groundbridge," she added with a smile directed at the girl. "That is fortunate. We can use that to reach him instead."

"Would that not put him at risk?" he wondered. "Soundwave can track groundbridges."

Foxtrot smiled an odd smile, "That would result in a few less ill-tempered Decepticons for you to deal with, should that occur."

He eyed her back curiously. The implications for her statement were intriguing but he was not willing to commit. Yet.

"Provide coordinates and Ratchet will upload them into the system for you."

She provided.

[...I assume you'll explain why you need to be 'bridged beneath Kyoto prefecture when you give your report?] said Ratchet.

[Naturally.]

[I trust you'll keep Miko safe then.]

He wondered how the good doctor would react when he informed him the opposite was the case. It would be more humorous, he decided, to tell him in person.

The groundbridge opened in a soft bang. He scooped Miko up into a palm. Keeping the survey drone roughly two paces ahead of her and a palm's width above her helm, Foxtrot motioned them to follow her in.

He wondered why it went first, not her.

The portal let them out into another cave. But this one was different he noted. Wider. Longer. More of a grand tunnel than a cavern. The walls and ceiling had been carefully carved to resemble giant torii gates, just like the ones at the Takayama shrine back in Aomori, but these were massive by comparison. Each was covered in plaster and painted bright, bold crimson that was still vibrant, yet the structures themselves had to be centuries old at the very least. Wherever there were gaps in the walls between the torii gates, intricate carvings adorned the smooth stone. Long-bodied dragons. Past emperors. Possible deities. Giant versions of Japanese language glyphs. Under the white light from Foxtrot's drone it all looked ethereal. Further ahead he spied a grand door of dark metal adorned by an inlay of Eastern dragons crafted almost entirely from gold. Giant pale red orbs gleamed in their maws and in the single eye sockets that faced them.

Foxtrot trotted ahead. She paused just shy of the doors.

"Just remember to be courteous," she whispered. "You are guests here and are expected to behave as such."

"I'll keep jerk-face in line," Miko grinned.

He scowled down at the girl. Still grinning, she shrugged "What? You did point a gun at her when she was just saying hi."

Foxtrot giggled and stepped up. The doors creaked open at her presence in a slow, auspicious way, framing a throne within. On it an imposing figure lounged. Pale gold, brilliant cobalt, and deep blue, he was easily thirty-five or forty feet in height and bore an impressive set of ivory-hued horns on each side of his helm that swept back like antlers. From the base of his chin drooped two strange whiskers. His armor was light-weight for such a giant though there was obvious brute might in him hidden just beneath his supple, somewhat serpentine nature. And yet, he admitted, he did not feel threatened. The imposing mech was smiling at them in the manner of an old lion without his fangs, but he knew better than to assume that as weakness. He could feel the power in his field even at his current distance.

He was surprised to see the figure was not alone either. By his side stood two beasts. One, a wintry white and blue feline with wings that would have looked less out of place on an aircraft, each bearing three thrusters along their length. The feline rose to his paws and glared at them through optics far different than any he had seen – they were wide bars of blue light incapable of moving like his own. The other figure was tucked deeper in shadow, a great hulking tank of a creature weighed down by an enormous armored shell replete with heavy artillery. A tortoise was the closest anatomical match he could find in his databanks. A hiss came from behind it. Two bright yellow orbs burned in the darkness.

"Seiryu..." breathed the girl in his palm. "And Byakko and Genbu! The Guardians of Kyoto! You're real! Cool! Can I get your autographs?!"

The figure smiled a little more on beholding her excitement.

"My lord," Foxtrot bowed. "Drift. General."

He, Miko, and Arcee followed her lead. To his surprise, the three figures bowed their helms respectfully back at them.

"It has been nearly five hundred years since a child of Japan has stood in my court," Gong Knell noted in a soft voice, "and never has an Autobot stood before me. That both are here – trouble is amassing at the spokes of fate as change once more is set in motion. That is why you are here, are you not? To halt the wheel?"

"That is why I brought them to you, my lord," Foxtrot stated. "It is hard to stop a wheel already in motion when the terrain it rolls on is slick with blood."

"But a strong enough ox can cease its course," agreed Gong Knell. He turned back to them. "You seek my aid in stopping this conflict?"

"Yes, sir," Miko answered in a meek squeak of a voice he'd never before heard from her.

His smile, directed uniquely at the girl, softened. There was no shame to be felt, he said, in asking for assistance. It was the wise warrior who knew when he was outmatched and went to another to bolster his strength. However, he was curious – had the situation between the two opposing parties truly grown so dire? Never in all his time on this planet had he ever had one of the Autobot faction seek his aid.

"The Decepticons fall back on an old strategy, raising the children of Onyx from the grave yet again. They seek to use us this time as attack dogs rather than mere supply wardens," Foxtrot told him, snorting, "as if that hadn't been the basest of humiliations."

Gong Knell's smile drooped to a frown, "Arrogance once sown is a hardy weed, one fed by folly. I would pity them were I able to. But it is hard to pity arrogance, and harder still to pity ignorance."

"Their arrogance extends yet further," growled the fox. "Megatron has grown so haughty he has recently killed the last living Prime."

The dragon's clawed hands clenched around the arms of his throne, "Was it in fair combat?"

"No," Arcee spat. "He used his tower to raze our base, with Optimus still inside. He didn't stand a chance."

The change in Gong Knell's demeanor was as instantaneous as it was terrifying. His body language became near wildly aggressive – flared plating, flashing optics, and a field now so intense he could feel it burning against his own, giving him the urge to squirm. A savage snarl warped his pleasant smile. That was not battle, the dragon snarled through clenched denta. That was murder. War was no excuse for murder, and any who was so foolhardy as to murder a Prime invoked a thousand miseries! Perhaps he could be one such misery.

"You'll help?" he gasped. Was it really that simple?

"Indeed," nodded the dragon mech. "Megatron and all his ilk must be taught a harsh lesson in humility. I will surrender my finest warrior to your cause to see that lesson fulfilled."

"Byakko?" hazarded the girl in his palm.

The white tiger beast gave her a peculiar tilt of the head that was strangely endearing.

"Drift is an incredibly reliable warrior, little one, but he is not my finest. To end this foolish, wasteful kingsbrawl you will need my finest."

An outstretched hand directed itself at the doors. They heeded the motion and creaked open for a second time. Whoever it was he had wanted to summon did not come. Gong Knell kept his fury and disdain at the sight of Knockout and eight Eradicon soldiers crossing the threshold muted but plainly visible. His disdain only deepened when each trooper aimed their weapons at him. The feline, Drift, and the shelled beast became agitated, prompting half to turn their weapons on each.

"You know," drawled the red medic, "for someone lecturing on humility you certainly didn't waste any expenses on this place, did you?"

The dragon mech's clawed hand clenched tighter around the arms of his throne, "You stand in the court of the Azure Dragon. If you value your lives, lower your weapons."

Three of the soldiers obeyed without question.

"What are you doing?" snapped Knockout. "I give the orders, you idiots, not him!"

Drift and the tortoise gave warning growls and hisses, the loudest of which came from behind the great tank creature.

"Your soldiers are wiser than you it seems," the dragon mech noted in wry, grim amusement. "For someone afflicted by vanity as intensely as you, your self-preservation instinct is remarkably unresponsive."

Miko and Foxtrot shared a giggle. He did not understand why. There had been a threatening undercurrent to his statement that had not been difficult to detect.

"I will give you one opportunity to leave in peace," Gong Knell growled softly. "I advise you take it. Unless you prefer punishment for your crimes, of course. And, correct me if I err, murder is a capitol offense, is it not? Punishable by death?"

Offended at being ordered around and threatened by a beast, Knockout drew himself up and inarticulately scoffed. The troops on the other hand wavered and squirmed. They, too, could feel Gong Knell's field biting at them.

His optics caught something then, behind them all. In the dark of the tunnel, there was a quick flicker of deep red flames. Less than two seconds later a tendril of gleaming red metal, flat and thinner than a blade, shot forward, wrapped around one of the soldiers, and pulled him, shrieking, into the tunnel's depths. A sickening shhrng! cut the soldier's cries short. Unable to see the attacker, the rest of the soldiers started to panic. One made the egregious error of firing plasma rounds into the tunnel. The tendril lashed out again, cracking against the soldier's weapon. He shouted at the pain of contact and shouted further when the weapon and the limb it had been mere moments ago disconnected just past the wrist joint and fell to the ground. No blue leaked from the wound. It smoked instead, the slashed metal red-hot.

"That is your final warning," hissed the dragon mech. "Either you leave now or you do not leave at all."

"What about them?!" demanded Knockout, pointing at him and Arcee. "You're not asking them to leave or attacking them, you slimy creature!"

"Unlike you, they respect my sapience and my lordship, so I respect them in turn," he answered him curtly. "Now begone! I will have your arrogance sully my presence no longer."

"I-I-Into the tunnel?" one soldier whimpered.

Gong Knell softened somewhat, "Leave peacefully and you will not be harmed. I swear on my honor as Lord Protector of the East."

"I think we should go, boss," another troop whispered to Knockout, "while he's still giving us the chance. He's protecting the other Preds."

Knockout snarled, clenching a fist, but under Gong Knell's piercing gaze he yielded in bad grace, "Fine. We're leaving. But keep in mind that treason is a capitol offense! Megatron will hear of this!"

"I was never anyone's witless dog to command, Decepticon, thus I never committed treason," retorted the dragon mech calmly.

Snarling louder, Knockout spun on his heel struts and stalked back the way he'd come, motioning the troops to follow. True to Gong Knell's word, no more attacks ensued, but the deep red flicker of flame in the hall's depths was given a wide berth. He did not take his gaze off them until a turquoise portal at the end of the hall devoured them. It was then the fire in the hall began to move towards them, swaying like kite tails in the gentlest of breezes, and it swayed so, he realized, because the flames were being emitted by not only tendrils but by a body. Vaguely he could discern a tall, lean silhouette. And then it came into the white light of Foxtrot's drone. He had been expected a hardened, ruthless warrior but the figure framed in the doorways was...quite the opposite. Her deep, bronze-red body was tall and lean, and her neck was unusually lengthy. Her trods, consisting of four wicked claws like a bird, three of them stained in blue, bore tendrils attached at her heel struts, and two more tendrils, longer and bigger, were attached to rods she held in each hand. Smaller, finer tendrils extended from the sides of her helm. Her upper helm was covered by a visor; only her lip-plates were visible. The deep red fire he had seen was not fire but the glare of her numerous bio-lights that fluxed and flickered in hue and brightness just like a real fire. But the smell of fire on her tendrils was real enough.

He honestly thought Gong Knell was having a laugh at their expense. This ornate creature was the monster in the hall?

"Autobots," said Gong Knell, "allow me to introduce my finest warrior: Ribbondance. You, little one," he added to Miko, "may know her by another name."

"Suzaku!" agreed the girl in his palm. "The Vermilion Bird! I knew there was one of you missing!"

Ribbondance bowed extravagantly, the tendrils on each side of her helm flowing forward as she knelt. "I am at your command, my lord, as always."

"Then heed my words. You will teach Megatron the folly of his arrogance. Aid these Autobots in putting an end to this foolish kingsbrawl. Your orders will henceforth issue from their lord now."

The avian femme's visor flickered in curious surprise but she offered no protest to the order. He wondered what was running through her processor at that moment.

"Autobots, I hope I do not need to say more than once that I expect you to treat my warrior with the utmost respect," the dragon mech warned in a soft snarl. "If she reports any misuse of her talents, any abuse of her person or attack on character, this arrangement is forfeit. Is that clear?"

He bowed back, "We understand perfectly, your Highness. No abuse will come to her. Optimus would not have allowed it, nor will his successor."

"Ah, so there is a successor. Good, good," he nodded. "Hearing of your depleted ranks from my scout I admit I feared the worst. If you are willing to indulge an old lord's insatiable need for speech a moment longer, tell me: who might this successor be? Humor me with their name if nothing else."

"Infernus, sir," answered Arcee. "Infernus Prime."

"A good name," Gong Knell declared. "Would you be kind enough to extend my greetings and well-wishes to him? I would prefer not to make an enemy of a Prime."

"You bet!" Miko agreed, giving him a thumbs up before realizing her mistake and giving a quick formal bow. "Uh, I mean, yes sir."

"Then return home," he waved them off. "Know you are now under the guardianship of the Azure Dragon, Lord Protector of the East."

He, Arcee, Miko, and the newly recruited Ribbondance gave final bows before the avian femme led them out of the throne room. From there, a groundbridge was called for.


"Infernus, I won't ask again," June warned. "Where. Is. Miko?"

Her voice wasn't raised but there was an indescribable something in her voice this time that set all of his defensive protocols off. He tried to tell the truth but all that came out was an indecipherable stammer that made humiliation burn in his spark. When her arms crossed, his plating tightened further against his frame. For all intents and purposes his mind and body were convinced he was under attack. Yet no matter how hard he tried to rationalize it away, reminded himself that June couldn't and wouldn't actually hurt him, that threat sense wouldn't leave. He felt like a dog whining and growling at nothing.

Her hands went to her hips. "Infernus. I'm going to count to three. One, two –"

The groundbridge opened. Arcee came out first. Prowl followed behind her. Miko was safely in the tactician's open palm, grinning. And behind them...

"Woah," Jack and Raf breathed.

June forewent her countdown. "Oh my..." Then she snapped back to normal on spotting Miko. She whirled on him, "Infernus!"

"It was his idea, not mine!" he protested in a high-pitched whine, pointing at Ultra Magnus.

The new femme's visor-covered face settled on him quickly. "You must be the resident lord. Infernus Prime?"

"Um, yeah. I'm the one in charge here," he confirmed awkwardly. "How did you know?"

The femme inclined her helm, "Draconians have always been rulers. I assumed as a matter of course."

"Um, actually I'm not –"

He didn't get the chance to finish correcting her. "So? Where are the rest of your forces?"

He shared an awkward glance with Ultra Magnus. "Uuuh...this is it."

Her visor flashed. She sucked in a burst of air in horror. This was the entirety of the Autobot forces stationed here? Then Gong Knell had been wise to transfer her to his command. They were in direr straights than she could have imagined.

"And who the heck are you to come in here and call us inadequate?" Wheeljack demanded. "We've managed fine without you."

The femme drew herself up in offense at his bluntness, "I am Lady Ribbondance, the Scourge of Summer and the Wild Flame of the Azure Dragon. Belittle me again and you will lose your vocalizer. And if you had been managing, Optimus would not have been killed."

The Wrecker growled. Ribbondance's hostility spiked. Her hands clenched around strange poles in her grasp.

He tactfully put himself between them and shepherded the femme over to Ratchet. Flashing a final glare at Wheeljack, she surrendered herself to the old medic's care. A scanner was brought out to hunt for the chip, which was soon located in the base of her neck.

As she was tended, Prowl, Arcee, and Miko reported at his request. Any lingering doubts and concerns he'd harbored about sending Miko and putting her in charge were gone by the end. Had he been able to crush her in a hug he would have. Instead, he settled on a broad grin and letting her give him a high five, congratulating her for a job well done. Bulkhead and Bluestreak were happy to take a high five as well, chuckling and grinning. The little Mazda proceeded to cup her in his palm and demand every little detail of Japan and the other Predacons they'd met. Miko was more than happy to oblige, waving her arms to encompass the sheer size of Gong Knell, the Azure Dragon, and the tank-shelled General, then spreading her arms out to mimic the wings of Drift, the silent White Tiger. Her retelling of Ribbondance's entrance left Bluestreak entranced and understandably a little bit scared of the avian femme on the medical slab. The new girl liked that reaction of his, turning towards Bluestreak and inclining her helm with all the regality of an oriental monarch but smiling nonetheless.

"Ep, ep, ep!" scolded Ratchet, re-orienting her neck. "No. Movement! This is a delicate operation!"

The chip was extracted and promptly destroyed. She thanked him for the service. Having that chip in her, monitored like a stray dog – the utter humiliation of it!

He let himself relax and smile. For once, a mission had gone perfectly. No injuries, no losses, and they had gained five valuable allies. Maybe it was a sign the light at the end of the tunnel was near.

"Can I go with Miko next time?!" the little Mazda begged him. "Please, please, please?!"

"No!" June barked. "Miko's not going anywhere. She's grounded for a week. And you –" she jabbed a finger at Ultra Magnus, " – send her anywhere without first informing me and I will have Ratchet take your voice box out, put it in an Amazon Echo, and sell it on eBay!"

"...That is not exaggeration?" the Commander wondered to him.

"Nnnnope," he and Miko answered.

Ultra Magnus went from the stoic, hardened commander feared and revered by Guard cadets to an off-balance child in the blink of an eye. He took a step away from her out of what looked muted terror.

Jack gawked, "Okay, new idea for winning the war: Can't we just air drop my mom on the Nemesis and let her handle Megatron?"

The image that provided was golden enough to make Alpha Trion cough back a laugh.

"Eh...tempting, very tempting..." he mused, barely able to hold back his own laughter, "but no. I think it only works on Autobots. Pretty sure that's a safety violation anyway..."

"Speaking of safety violations, Ultra Magnus isn't the only guilty party," June continued, turning to eye him down next. "He may have given the suggestion but you, Infernus, had to have authorized it."

Every single plate on his body tightened. He stole a glance out of the hangar and started to back away, "Uh, I-I, uh, I need to go brief Fowler and Bryce about all this."

"No, don't you even think about –"

"Bye!"

He bounded out towards the safety of the command building. Battling the Unmaker himself sounded more appealing than dealing with the Darby matron's fury.


The sounds of military routine on the base in the deep of night and early morning were, while still not fully routine to Arcee yet, somewhat relaxing – everything but the sound of the jets. It was just as well, she supposed. Slipping in and out of power down was so standard a practice to her by now it would have felt odd not to react in such a way to those sounds. Friendly territory or not it wouldn't do to let her guard down to anything in an exposed locale. And yet every time she heard the lone rumble of a Jeep or the stomp of booted feet some of the tension caused by the passing aircraft eased. Her backstrut was foolishly directed at the door rather than away. A rookie error, she scolded herself. But in the rumble of another Jeep she let her mind strategize the error away. An enemy unaware of her preparation was all the easier to defeat.

A low creak of the hangar doors forced her back online. Her chronometer registered a lapse in time of nearly an hour. For a moment, panic coursed through her as she realized she'd let herself fall under for so long. Then came instinct, routine. Her combat protocols initiated while the uninvited guest crept in.

She readied her arm blades.

Then stopped.

She knew who was in the hangar with her. She knew who had come. She did not need to see him to know. She heard it. The chink of talons. The door creaked shut again and he approached, then paused. A gentle thud vibrated through the cement as he lay down, his form blocking the air that seeped in from beneath the doors. He was close, close enough his field touched hers, but there was a gap between their backstruts, enough of a distance to make her spark quiver in guilt and fear. That gap needed to be there, she reasoned, for his protection as much as hers. Every time she had gotten close to someone they had wound up in danger or dead. But...

"If loss is all you know, you'd be alone right now. You ain't."

"...find another lens..."

Infernus made no move towards her. He remained where he was. Inviting. She owed him an apology if nothing else.

Shoving her fear away, she touched her backstrut to his, praying hope wouldn't betray her for a third time.


Yeah, this was needed as a little build up for the Predaking fight. Muahahah...
**the title is kind of a pun on the phrase "null and void"