The first sign that Ultra Magnus was approaching was the barrier glitched out. Everybody looked up as the shield disappeared, and the younglings scowled. Silverstorm watched as they slunk together, muttering amongst themselves. The Prime took a deep breath, then he stood tall.
"Alright," he said. "Let's go and say hi."
The younglings frowned at him, but they obeyed. Before they'd taken more than four steps, a mech strode down the street, frowning as he looked around. Silverstorm held up his hand, but the younglings had already crowded together. The Prime didn't like the looks of insecurity that flashed over their faces. He hadn't seen such insecurity since he'd begun to teach them how to wield their swords. The mech tore his gaze from the clean streets, the working lamps, and the project to completely renovate the house next door to the one they were staying in, and he turned to look at Silverstorm.
"Who the frag are you?" he demanded, stopping in front of him.
"Silverstorm," the youngling replied. "And you must be Ultra Magnus."
"I am. How did you get in here?"
"It's not that difficult to get in and out," Silverstorm replied, refusing to reveal Mirage and Hound were the culprits.
Ultra Magnus sneered. "It was Mirage, wasn't it?" Mirage's optics turned purple, and he flashed out of sight. Ultra Magnus drew himself up. "I warned you not to go out again Mirage!"
"That's not important, Magnus," Silverstorm said coolly.
"It most certainly is!" Ultra Magnus growled. "And it's Ultra Magnus to you. Disrespectful youngling."
"You're the one being disrespectful," Sunstreaker shot back. "Silverstorm is a Prime. And what exactly are you?"
Ultra Magnus paused, looking Silverstorm up and down. He got closer and turned the youngling's head to the side, his blue optics narrowing. After a few moments, he snorted and stepped back.
"You're a clever liar, Silverstorm. Where did you find the symbols for Prime and how did you mark yourself?"
Silverstorm frowned. "Symbols?" he asked. He reached up and touched the side of his face. "What symbols?"
Ultra Magnus paused. Silverstorm was a good actor. He seemed genuinely puzzled. But there was no way that he was a Prime. The last Prime picked was Optimus, and Primus himself had done it. Something bumped Ultra Magnus and Mirage suddenly appeared, peering at the side of Silverstorm's head. Ultra Magnus jumped, but Silverstorm simply stood there patiently as Mirage traced a silver and gold symbol on the side of his Prime's face. His fingers were gentle, and Silverstorm realized it was about where his ear had been as a human.
"What is it, Raj?" he asked.
"I didn't know that was the symbol for a Prime," he said softly. "But it makes sense. It's the same colors as Primus, and it's slightly different from his symbol on the door of the temple."
Red Alert clicked his glossa. "It must be ancient Cybertronian," he said. "I've been trying to decipher the symbols all over Primus's inner chamber. I'll have to take a look at it and add it to my memory banks."
Ultra Magnus shuttered his optics. Mirage had never dared to speak much to him, but he was openly touching and speaking to this Silverstorm. And Silverstorm was smiling. Ultra Magnus took a step back and studied the youngling.
He was shorter than a full-grown mech, like all younglings, meaning that he had not hit his final growth spurt. His armor was almost completely silver with thin white lines breaking up the monotony, some jagged like electricity, others curling around his limbs. Silverstorm was quite a lithe youngling, built thin, with intense blue optics that seemed to see more than the mech was comfortable with. Ultra Magnus knew instinctively that there was power in that thin form. He could sense something dangerous in Silverstorm, and it made him leery.
His optics slid over to Mirage. By contrast, he was broader at the shoulder, a little taller than Silverstorm, and his colors were brighter. The white of his chest turned to blue at his shoulders, and it continued down to his mid-forearms, where it changed back to white. His entire torso was white, and his legs were encased with dark blue armor. To Ultra Magnus's surprise, his golden optics held no shyness as he looked at Silverstorm. And then the mech noticed that Mirage's armor was gleaming blue and white. It was completely visible and clean.
"You're clean," Ultra Magnus said blankly.
Mirage turned and met his optics, another shocking thing. "Silverstorm helped us to make new pipes. We've renovated the showers. We get to bathe whenever we feel like it."
"The house is clean, too, and we've got separate berthrooms now," Hound added proudly.
Ultra Magnus had the strangest look on his face, and Silverstorm couldn't read it. The mech frowned at him.
"You're not a Prime," he said finally. "Optimus is the only Prime left. A Prime has to be chosen by Primus himself. You most certainly were not."
An explosion of noise broke out from the younglings.
"That's not true!" Sunstreaker roared.
"We saw Primus choose him ourselves!" Blurr cried.
"He is a Prime!" Sideswipe snarled.
"Enough of that!" Ultra Magnus exclaimed.
But the younglings only got louder. Ultra Magnus looked stern, and he opened his mouth to snap, but Silverstorm held up one finger. Shocked at being told to wait by a youngling, Ultra Magnus stopped. Silverstorm turned and held up his hands, and the mech couldn't believe it as the younglings calmed down. They still looked angry, but they were no longer shouting.
"He didn't see what you did," Silverstorm soothed. "And it doesn't matter what he thinks anyway. I'm a Prime; you know it, and I know it."
"He doesn't think any youngling could possibly become a Prime," Sunstreaker seethed. "He probably thinks that he should be a Prime."
Ultra Magnus snorted, and Silverstorm turned and smiled. "I understand that feeling," he said.
"What feeling?" the mech challenged.
"Knowing that you're not good enough to be chosen as a Prime," Silverstorm said. Before Ultra Magnus could argue, the youngling shrugged. "I feel the same way. But Primus made it very clear that I'm a Prime. We can go and ask him if you'd like."
Ultra Magnus's optics flashed. "So you have been leaving your bubble!" he snarled.
"Yes," Silverstorm replied. "We go to the temple every few days to talk with Primus."
"Now I know you're lying," Ultra Magnus said. He turned to Red Alert. "I expected you to keep your promise. You were supposed to keep them safe in here."
Red Alert's optics flashed pink, and he shifted. "But he's not lying, sir," he murmured. "Primus called us to the temple to mark Silverstorm as Prime. That's the reason we left."
"Even you?" Ultra Magnus asked.
The youngling hugged himself. "Yes," he said, his voice small.
"I'm disappointed in you, Red Alert."
Red Alert slumped, and a soft whine came from his vocalizer. Silverstorm sidestepped to block his youngling from view.
"You would rather him listen to you than Primus?" he asked.
"Primus doesn't speak anymore. He hasn't in a million years. I think he's dead. That's how I know you're not a Prime."
Silverstorm felt a familiar burning rushing through his tubing. He fought the anger, narrowing his optics at Ultra Magnus.
"Then let's go to the temple and talk to him," Silverstorm said.
"You younglings are not allowed out of your shield bubble," Ultra Magnus said stubbornly. "And I am not going to talk to a god that I don't even believe in. He hasn't answered a single prayer of mine."
"That doesn't mean he doesn't exist," Silverstorm replied, clenching his fists. "He's weak from his prolonged stasis, and his internal energon is slow and crusted. We're working on clearing out his tubing so he can regain his strength. He doesn't have the energy to go out of the temple. So if you want to talk with him, you'll have to go to the temple. Are we going or not?"
"You are going nowhere, youngling," Ultra Magnus said. "I'll recalibrate the sensors again so you can't get in and out. And this time you'd better listen."
Defiance reared up in Silverstorm as he saw a flash of the mechs from Earth. He stood straight and crossed his arms.
"Or what?" he asked coldly.
"I'll punish you," Ultra Magnus said.
"Really?" Silverstorm asked, feigning sweetness. "And however shall you do that? Hm?"
Ultra Magnus opened his mouth then shut it. The younglings shifted behind Silverstorm. They had been threatened with punishment for years and years. But it occurred to them that no matter how Ultra Magnus threatened Mirage, he never acted on it. They had never once asked how the mech intended to punish them, but as the silence stretched on between Ultra Magnus and Silverstorm, they realized that all of those threats might have been empty.
A grim smile grew on Silverstorm's face. "Kinda hard to punish a youngling," he said. "Especially since the majority of your time is spent far, far away. What are you going to do? Take away our energon and let us starve? Send us to a corner? Take away privileges? You can't starve us; I know how to make an energon converter. As soon as you leave, we'll turn right around and continue on our business. And there are no privileges from living in a war-torn area without any physical or mental pleasures. Face it, Magnus. Unless you stay here, you can't make us do anything."
Ultra Magnus took a step forward. "Watch me," he snapped, but fear was in his face.
As he reached for Silverstorm, the youngling produced a condensed electrical shield so strong that it forced the mech backward. He cried out as he was shocked, cradling his hand. He gazed open-mouthed at the shield. Silverstorm shrugged as it disappeared.
"My special ability. Just like Mirage's camouflage. Only more… dangerous."
He turned and let his residual anger flow into his fingertips. He threw his hand up and a single bold of white-hot electricity shot out. It was perfectly controlled as it arced up to a building, and its energy lit every light in the house. The light was almost blinding in comparison to the dim streets, and they all looked away, cringing. Ultra Magnus stared, and this time all of the younglings could see the fear.
Silverstorm cut off the power then turned to the mech, the light slowly diminishing behind him. For a moment, as he was silhouetted in the light, the power that Ultra Magnus had sensed was on full display. The white lines decorating his body glowed blue from the electrical power, and his silver frame flashed white from the intense lighting. Then the lights faded, and he was simply another youngling.
"Magnus," Silverstorm said gently. He shook out his hand, and sparks dripped like liquid from his fingertips. "I know you want to protect these younglings, but you're doing it all wrong. You need to teach them to fight. If they can get in and out so easily, so can the Cons. It doesn't matter how you calibrate the sensors if there is a flaw or glitch in the design. If the enemy gets in, these younglings are dead, Magnus. I've started to teach them self-defense with external weapons. But they need the upgrade that will allow them to transform and give them internal weapons."
The white of Ultra Magnus's optics flashed back to blue, and he placed his hands on his hips. "Listen here, Silverstorm," he hissed. "You might have tricked all of these younglings into following you, but I don't believe that you're a Prime. I will not give in to your demands. You can stay here, but I won't be giving these younglings any weaponry. They're not ready."
"They won't be unless you train them," Silverstorm began, but he stopped. He saw that Ultra Magnus would not be budged, so he stood up, his own optics flashing. "If you won't train them, I will. I can make a lot of weapons. It won't be hard to arm them, with or without you. Now finish your inspection then go, like you always do. You might as well abandon them for dead for all the use that you are."
For an instant, Ultra Magnus's face crumpled, and real pain flashed across his expression. Then it was gone, as fast as lightning, but just like when he used to watch the electrical storms on Earth, the image was seared into his mind. As Ultra Magnus turned away, regret filled Silverstorm. He had wanted to talk civilly to the mech, but he had lost his temper again. Nobody had been physically harmed, but he had hurt Ultra Magnus. He hung his head as he realized that he might have lost his chance to understand the mech. What had he just done?