Silverstorm and Mirage stood at the edge of the shield, staring out at the temple. The Prime wanted somebody to go with him to see Primus, and Mirage seemed to be the best choice. Silverstorm took in a long breath then sighed it out through his vents.
"Well, let's go," he said, his voice small.
With a flex of his power, the shield fritzed, and they stepped through and began the short walk toward the temple. They didn't speak, both of them too nervous about meeting Primus face to face again. He was intimidating and loving at the same time, and it was a paradox that they were both afraid and yet desired to be in his presence again. He made them feel amazing, both completely known and completely naked. And yet he seemed to love them anyway.
They got to the entrance and Silverstorm hesitantly tapped the door. It slid open without a sound. The two younglings glanced at each other then slunk inside. There was a soft snick as the door closed behind them, leaving them in darkness for a few moments. With a rushing sound, the torches flared to life, and Silverstorm paused to look around.
The main hallway was wide enough for three fully grown mechs to walk abreast. The torches were not orange fire, like fire from Earth. It was green and blue, obviously a chemical type of flame, and it sent a strange light over the two younglings. The hallway was designed to be acoustically perfect, and every noise they made echoed musically around them. It was a little spooky for even their breath sounded loud in their audios.
After several minutes of stillness, Silverstorm grabbed Mirage, and they began to walk down the hall toward the center of the temple. They passed many doorways, each the exact same length apart as the others, and the doors were staggered on either side so that there was a perfect 45-degree angle between the ones on either side. Everything was so proportionally perfect in a way that Silverstorm had never seen on Earth. Cybertronians had reached a state of mathematical and measuring perfection that no human could achieve. He was impressed by the symmetry of the entire hallway, and he wanted to go into the other rooms. But he forced his feet toward the center room.
At the silver and gold door, Silverstorm and Mirage paused, took a deep breath, then the Prime tapped the door. It slid open and they were dazzled at once by the prismatic spark in the center. As their optics adjusted, there was a sparkling cloud that descended from the center of the spark, and Primus's mech form took shape. He smiled kindly and gestured them forward.
"Come on in, little Prime, Mirage."
They entered and the door slipped shut behind them, leaving them standing in the room, bathed with rainbow light and feeling exposed and safe at the same time. Unsure of what to say, Silverstorm began to play with his hands and looked around the room.
The chamber was coated in silver from top to bottom, reflecting the prismatic light in a display that was breathtaking. Thin lines of gold traced out words in ancient Cybertronian, and Silverstorm knew what they said instinctively, though the words weren't definable to his mind.
Eventually, his gaze was drawn back to the mech standing calmly in the middle of the room, watching him with a smile and his hands behind his back. Silverstorm finally swallowed and stepped forward.
"Hello, Primus," he said, his voice hoarse. "I… You said that I was to visit. I brought Raj. I hope that's okay."
Primus nodded, his golden optics sparkling with pleasure. "I'm glad to see you both," he assured them. "I had hoped you would come sooner."
Silverstorm's optics turned pink. "I was busy," he muttered.
Primus tilted his head. "I see," he said evenly.
Silverstreak flinched. Primus didn't sound angry, but there was something that sank in his spark. He knew that he had disappointed Primus by avoiding him. And he knew that Primus knew that he had been avoiding him. It made him feel guilty, and though Primus didn't give any outward indication of pain, Silverstorm knew that he was hurt.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, a soft clicking sound coming from his vocalizer. He was on the very edge of whining, and he thought he might explode from the sorrow on Primus's handsome face.
Primus relaxed and nodded. "It's alright, Silverstorm. I can be overwhelming at times, but there is no need to avoid me. I only wish to help you."
And just like that, the guilt was gone, and a warm glow filled Silverstorm's entire being. He stood up straight and beamed. He was forgiven for his mistakes and all was well.
"I'm proud of what you did for Sunstreaker," Primus said idly, trailing his hand through the spark above him; his image instantly became stronger. It was only afterward that they both noticed that Primus's image had been fading.
"Are you okay?" Mirage asked.
Primus smiled tiredly. "My real form, which is Cybertron, is sadly low on energy. My spark is strong, but my body is weak. It takes quite an effort to be corporeal. But I enjoy talking to you face to face. It's well worth the effort."
"Can we help?" Silverstorm asked.
Primus tapped his cheek thoughtfully. "If you could clear out the inner tubes that lead from my spark to the rest of my body, that would help me. I pull energy from the stars and the area around me. The tubes are clogged from my long stasis and slow-moving energy for so many thousands of years. Clearing some of them will make me stronger. Eventually, you would need to clear all of them, but only a few will do to give me so much more energy."
"How do we do this?" Silverstorm asked. "Where do we need to go?"
Primus hummed then pointed toward the hallway. "The third door on the left opens to a stairway that goes to the library. There are schematics there for my body. You'll need to map it out and figure out how to clear them. I'd get it myself, but it is difficult to be so far away from my spark."
"That's okay. We'll find it," Silverstorm assured him.
"So what can I help you with?" Primus asked.
Silverstorm shifted. "I don't understand why you've chosen me. And I don't know if I'm enough for the younglings. They need so much, and I'm so… so little."
Mirage turned disbelieving optics toward his Prime, the answer to his prayer. Did Silverstorm really think he was so little? He had proven so much already, repairing their showers by making new pipes, forging knives for them, promising more weapons, and encouraging them to clean their surroundings, which were beginning to look a lot more like what the younglings remembered from their sparklinghoods.
Primus turned to Mirage and smiled. "Why don't you tell him your thoughts."
Mirage's optics immediately turned pink, and he shifted. "It's not important."
"I think it is," Primus said.
Silverstorm studied Mirage then grinned. "You can turn invisible if you want."
Mirage opened his mouth then shivered and vanished. He stuttered out his thoughts, shrinking in on himself as he tried to hide himself. He hated sharing thoughts like that. But to his surprise, Silverstorm looked shocked.
"You really think I'm doing okay, Raj?" he asked, his voice quavering.
Mirage paused. "Of course. Things were horrible before you came. It's much better now." He paused. "Why don't you think you're doing well?"
Silverstorm considered the question for some time. When he spoke, he sounded sad and angry.
"I never felt like I was good enough back on Earth. Everybody else was a mech or were sparked as mechs, so they never really understood me. I was always so angry back on Earth. I just wanted them to understand, but they never did. I wanted to talk, but eventually, I just stopped trying. They did, too. And it… it hurt."
Silverstreak shivered, and he turned away, afraid that he would lose it. Mirage stared at him in amazement. He hesitated then sidled over and wrapped his arm around his Prime.
"It's okay, Silverstorm," he said gently. "It's okay. We love you and we need you. Everything is okay now."
Silverstorm broke down at the kind words that he had needed to hear for so very long. He curled close and sobbed as whines filtered through his vocalizer, a bizarre combination of human sorrow and Cybertronian grief. Mirage held him gently, crooning and clicking comfort to his leader. He was completely unaware that he was now fully visible again. But when Silverstorm looked at him with grateful optics, he found that he didn't care. He was healing something inside of Silverstorm that had been broken for a long time.
When he finally calmed down, Silverstorm stood up and shivered again. Primus walked over, his form fading as he got farther away from his spark. But his hand was a solid weight as it settled on Silverstorm's shoulder. The other hand settled on Mirage's shoulder, and they stared at Primus curiously.
"I'm glad that you've talked. That is important. But Silverstorm, have you ever considered their point of view?"
Silverstorm's expression morphed. "Of course I considered it. I was nothing but a nuisance," he spat bitterly.
Primus considered this. "Do you really believe that they all thought you were a nuisance? Optimus and Kup and Bumblebee? All of them?"
Silverstorm paused. He really thought about everything that had happened over the past few years on Earth. He knew that he was difficult. He wasn't unaware of his temper, but they had never seemed to understand. But then again, had he really understood why he was so angry? He was still not completely sure, but he knew part of it was the pressure of growing up and part of it was the pressure of being so powerful on a planet that he no longer truly belonged on.
"No," he finally said. "I was difficult. But they never seemed to care about how hard I was trying. They just saw my mistakes, not my successes."
"Perhaps they've forgotten what it means to be young," Primus suggested. "They have been at war for so very long, Silverstorm. Much longer than a hundred humans' lifespans. I think you should give them a chance and talk to them. Share your honest thoughts, just as Mirage did for you. It can be painful and difficult to talk about things that are so personal, but it is better than bottling up your emotions until they explode in a shower of sparks. Don't you agree?"
Silverstorm smiled. "Yeah. I guess you're right. But I don't want to see them just yet. I don't even know if I'll ever see them again."
"Oh, I wouldn't count that as an impossibility just yet," Primus said.
His form suddenly shuddered and faded to almost nothing. Silverstorm caught him, and he was so light it was as if he were air contained in a shell as fragile as an egg. He picked him up and hurried over to the glowing, pulsing spark. He lifted Primus up high enough that his nearly gone form touched the spark. His weight settled hard on Silverstorm, and he collapsed under Primus's frame. Primus jumped up and helped Silverstorm to his feet.
"So sorry," Primus said. "I was too far away from my spark for too long."
"We'll go and find that datapad about your systems," Silverstorm said. He hesitated. "Unless you want to talk more?"
"I would," Primus said. "But I'm so very tired. This interaction has drained me. Perhaps in another few days."
"Then we'll leave you to rest," Mirage said. "Come on, Prime. Let's go and search the library."
The two younglings walked out and headed down the hallway and through the door that Primus had cited. They found a set of stairs that went up to the second story. When the door to the library swished open, they suddenly realized how hard it would be to find the correct datapad. There were shelves upon shelves of Cybertronian books, and they stared around in dismay for a few moments. Then Mirage sighed.
"Let's go get the others," he suggested.
"We'll need them," Silverstorm agreed.
So they headed back toward home to recruit their friends to help find a way to cure Primus of his weakness.