Chapter 2

"Cybertron"

Complexius left her with a datapad. At least that hadn't changed; the device was... relatively similar to the kind used at home. The alien runes might have been an issue if the new language files she'd found didn't cover them. It was a blessing, of sorts. But she didn't appreciate the mystery associated with all of it. Lennox had so many questions. Complexius had told her, as gently as the lumbering robot could, that the datapad could answer some of them. The rest she could ask of Phosphora or Overwatch, but that was a gamble. Lennox didn't feel like talking to anyone else for a long, long time. Or ever. It only served to remind her of how quiet and cold it was inside her head. Gecko's warmth was gone. His shy encouragements were never to be heard again.

She missed him so, so much.

Lennox had retreated to the room she woke up in not long after Complexius left. Phosphora told her she could use it, and that they were available if she needed any help. That was as far as she got before Lennox rushed back up the stairs and sat against the metal-bed-thing.

It wasn't that she disliked people. She just... disliked being at a disadvantage where others were concerned.

The datapad didn't have a search function. Or, it wasn't initially apparent. No, it had a programme curtailed towards those afflicted with amnesia. Lennox didn't have amnesia, but she ran it regardless. Just to get it out of the way.

Most of it was useless psychology crap. She didn't need a psychiatrist - just some damn answers. And the datapad refused to give her anything definitive. She was very, very close to throwing it at the opposite wall when the door slid open. Phosphora cautiously peeped in. "Are... are you alright, dear?"

No. "I'm fine," Lennox lied. I don't want this I don't want this I don't want this I want Gecko and Ikharos and Jaxson and Cayde and Sundance and-

"Now," Phosphora smiled. It was a motherly and honest smile and Lennox was already sick of it, sick of all the changes, sick of all the mystery, sick of the emptiness in her core. "You and I know that isn't true."

I want to be alone! "I'll be fine."

"... You don't believe that. It's true, yes, but I can see you don't think so." Phosphora stepped inside. The door slid shut behind her. It gave Lennox claustrophobia. There was room for two of them, more, but... it still wasn't enough. "What's your... do you remember your designation, dear?"

Designation. Name. "Lennox," she admitted.

Phosphora's smile faltered. "Pardon?"

"Lennox-2."

"Dear?"

"That's my... designation."

"Dear, what did you say?" The smile had completely disappeared at that point, replaced with a full-blown frown.

Lennox was about to say it again when she realized what she was hearing, not what she was saying. She was trying to speak in the language that the metal people used, but... the word 'Lennox' didn't translate. At all. She was saying it in English. "Oh."

"Is something the matter?"

"I... can't say it."

"Ah... well, give yourself time. You're safe here, you have my word." Phosphora awkwardly crossed her arms. "Is there anything I can get you? Energon cube?"

Energy what? "What is that?"

"Energon cube. I'm sure you need some after you hike through the Rust Sea. I'll get you one." And with that said, Phosphora left. She left Lennox both mystified and anxious.

There was nothing to do but read the datapad or inspect her room. Lennox decided on the latter. It was bare, aside from the incredibly uncomfortable bed and a small viewport on the other wall. She wandered over to the window and peeked out. There were lights outside. It looked like a road ahead - perhaps a motorway, given its size. What really stole her focus was the sky. It was dark, but the stars were out all the same.

They weren't the stars she knew. And Lennox knew the stars. They were her guides when maps failed and Gecko got confused. Ikharos had taught her those stars - taught her how to make her way through the wilderness when the only thing she could see was the sky.

She wasn't on Earth. Nor any of the other planetary bodies of Sol. At least, none of the ones she'd visited. And there were moons high above. Two of them. They were fat and bright and gleaming silver.

Phosphora returned with a wide smile and a glass cube in which rippled a glowing blue liquid. "Energon," she explained.

Lennox was past caring about that. "What planet are we on?" She quietly asked.

The other... woman?... hesitated. "Cybertron, of course!" She proclaimed.

"Cybertron," Lennox repeated very slowly. Panic bled into her voice. "Cybertron?"

"Yes?"

"And... where is Cybertron? Relative to Earth?"

"Earth? What's Earth?"

"Terra? Gaia?" She was getting desperate.

"I'm... afraid I don't understand." Phosphora sounded genuinely concerned. Lennox couldn't have cared less.

She trembled. She fell against the wall and slid to the floor. Her oversensitive wings twinged with discomfort. She tried to hyperventilate - never could before, still couldn't now. A roar came from within her chest. It was like a Sparrow engine. A really, really angry Sparrow engine.

"Where... How... No..." She cupped her head in unfamiliar hands. "I don't... I'm lost. I don't... understand!"

Phosphora stood a pace away, concerned yet lost herself. Lennox didn't have the patience to tell her what was wrong. She didn't want to tell. Gecko was hers, even in death. Even in memory. Gecko was hers.

Exhaustion swept in hours later. Maybe days. Phosphora had left at some point. Lennox dimly remembered getting up and walking over to the metal slab. It was better than a steel floor - marginally.

She laid down flat to avoid hurting her oversensitive wings and offlined her optics. Sleep came slowly, but when it did the dreams flared to life. She found comfort in their strange familiarity.

Golden fields spread out in every direction. There was a tower beyond them, a black tower she called home. The distant mountains reared up like jagged fangs, tearing into the succulent flesh of the sky.

Lennox always arrived when it was dusk. This time was different. This time it was midnight. The moon stared at her like a giant accusatory eye. It blinked once, twice, no more.

Something screamed. A bird circled above, keen eyes appraising the ground below. Looking for field mice. Or something else.

She needed to reach the tower. Needed to. It was home. But an army stood in her way. People - lots of them. People she knew. She didn't remember some of them, but they were familiar all the same. The ones she knew best were at the front.

"Don't go to the tower," they chanted. They always did that. It was ritual by then.

As per tradition, she shouted back, "I have to!"

"Don't go!"

She went anyways. They tried to stop her - a veritable crowd of friendly faces contorted by urgency. She pushed back. Violence sparked. She hit back, harder than they did. Faces fell away, but she wasn't worried. They weren't gone forever. They would wait for the next dream.

But this time was different. Her hands were slick with blood. So was the ground. There was never so much blood. Lennox slipped. The army swarmed her. Fear, real fear, rushed through her. She called out for help.

All the people disappeared, buffeted away by the air displaced by the bird's wings. It was a hawk, golden and bright. It took the place of the moon and flew to her hand. It became her weapon. She never had a weapon before. Not in the dreams.

The hawk's talons cleared her a way through the army. Bodies parted before her. The army surged and died. The way was clear.

It had never been clear before.

The tower was within reach. The black tower in which she was reborn. A man stood within, withered and dying. His tongue was a snake. "I-" He began.

She let loose the hawk. It flew at him, talons outstretched.

The serpent-tongued man said, "Men are so quick to blame the gods: they say that we devise their misery. But they themselves - in their depravity - design grief greater than the griefs that fate assigns."

The talons struck him. The dream shattered.

There was no grogginess in the act of waking up. Her new body was efficient. It had few of the flaws that afflicted humans. Less than an Exo body did, in any case. Lennox sat up straight and looked around with optics that ached to be bleary.

Daybreak stood by the door, nervous as any child would be with a visiting stranger. "Phosphora told me to tell you that there's Energon on the table, if you want to refuel."

Lennox almost said no, but a blip in the corner of her vision stopped her in her tracks. Her fuel counter was low. Fuel. Not food. Fuel. It wasn't an Exo body. She would have to get used to that. Lennox smothered the resurfacing sorrow and stepped away from the metal slab. "I'll... have some," she said softly.

Daybreak smiled and ran off. Lennox heaved a sigh and walked after him.

The entire family was gathered at the table downstairs - Overwatch, Phosphora and Daybreak.

"Complexius doesn't live here?"

"No, dear," Phosphora smiled gladly. She looked relieved to see her again. "He lives elsewhere."

"But I'm..."

"We offered to help and house you, and we'll hold to that promise."

"Thank you," Lennox murmured. She hesitated for a moment before taking the empty place at her table. The wings were, yet again, an issue, but she managed to find some measure of success - folding them against her back and lifting them up to decease the chance of contact with the chair's spine.

There were four Energon cubes. They looked identical to the one Phosphora had yesterday. "What do I do with this?" Lennox asked.

Overwatch showed her how to remove the transparent cover - was it glass? Or some kind of crystal? - and supped from his own cube. They drank it through their mouths, like any biological creature would. Lennox brought her cube to her metal lips and drank.

It tasted like electricity. Not good. Not bad. Just was.

She drained as much as she could, going until the fuel counter on her HUD filled up to the limit. It felt... good. Satisfying. Like satiating a panging hunger.

"Hey, uh..." Daybreak began. "What's your designation?"

"Day!" Phosphora scolded.

Lennox paused. She couldn't hold it off forever. "Hawkmoon."

Three pairs of optics found her. "Hawkmoon?" Overwatch repeated.

Lennox nodded. A part of her wanted to laugh. Another wanted to cry. Neither felt very appropriate. "Yes. I'm... Hawkmoon."