I wanted to get this out before the hurricane Milton hits me, just in case the power goes out for a while. Last time for Helene, I had my power out, mercifully for only 6 hours. But Milton is much larger, it might happen. Though where I live, I might not get too much of the hurricane, save some wind and rain. Hopefully it's just that and nothing worse.
This chapter was a bit hard to write because of the fight. Sorry if the battle scene is a bit confusing or strange, I was just writing what I saw in my head. Plus, I've never written a fight scene before. Let me know what you think :)
The arena floor was hexagonal, polished until he could see his own reflection looking up at him. The floor was patterned with hexagons, glowing softly with the sleek strips of light that accented each shape. Makeshift barriers, mostly made up of scrap metal were placed around the arena—perfect places for smaller bots to hide.
Above him, hundreds of feet in the air, the ceiling were crisscrossed with support beams and arrays of lights that swamped the floor in a flashing and flickering glare. Surrounding the floor was seating that reached up to the ceiling in tiers. The stands were packed with middle and low caste bots—construction workers, civil engineers, data specialists, cultural investigators, programmers, miners, haulers and manual laborers.
The middle and lower castes were separated, with the middle castes positioned on one side of the arena and the lower castes on the opposite side. It was just another reminder of the great rift in Cybertron's society. It was a division that had become as much a part of Cybertron as its towering cities.
C-14 raised his servos, playing the crowd as he always did, feeding off their energies. It wasn't just for show, it was a calculated move—one that the popular gladiators used. He knew the effect it had on his opponents. They saw it as arrogance, as if he was already claiming the victory before the battle even began. It made them angry, reckless, and easier to outmaneuver. It was a psychological game as much as it was a physical one.
He had been in many arenas all over Cybertron, a hundred times and over. He had lost few rounds—the first to wound matches—since the beginning of his career as a gladiator. It made him one of the top fighters in the pits, signifying how many bots he had killed over the stellar cycles—something he was not proud of.
Every time he raised his servos, every time the crowd roared in approval, it reminded him of the bots he had bested—and the ones he had killed. Not every opponent had walked away from these fights. Some hadn't even had the chance to crawl. And while he tried to rationalize it—telling himself it was the nature of the pits, that it was fight or be scrapped—the energon that stained his servos after the fights made him feel like a murderer.
He shook his helm, now was not the time for introspection. His attention was directed to the three bots that popped out of their hiding spots with a series of synchronized flips and acrobatic maneuvers that seemed to dazzle the crowd. He ignored their show, immediately studying the mechs. They were all the same build—short and thin, with armor that protruded upward, ending in spikes—although each were a different color. Red, blue, green. He quickly surmised that they were triplets.
The green one immediately transformed, shifting into a sleek, two wheeled mode that had magnetic wheels. It zipped across the wall, looking for an advantageous position over him. C-14 kept the bot in his peripheral vision, focusing on the red and blue bots.
They launched themselves at him, coming from either side in an attempt to overwhelm him. The red bot closed in first with a fist aimed at his helm. C-14 responded by blasting Red away with a shot from his left blaster, sending it tumbling across the arena. Blue was swatted away with a powerful backhand from his right servo. The force of the blast sent the blue bot skidding across the floor, but it recovered quickly, flipping back onto its pedes with a graceful roll.
Red wasn't far behind, springing to its pedes and crawling back over to its brother. They both hissed and the red bot launched itself forward, landing a solid kick to C-14's shoulder. He brushed it off, his arm shooting out and grabbing Red with a vice-grip before it could escape, crushing its neck cables. It clawed at him, squirming and growling as the pressure continued to increase.
Before he could finish it off, Blue retaliated with an ability that caught him off guard. The bot fired a barrage of sharp ice shards that resembled daggers. He dropped Red in favor of defending himself, lifting his arm while the ice pelted against his thick plating, leaving dents. At the same time, Red raised its arms, summoning balls of searing flame that it hurled at C-14 in quick succession.
Ice and fire. Great, he thought grimly. He suspected that these two bots—three—were the results of Shockwave's experiments. They couldn't be outliers, though it was entirely possible. They didn't seem to be very intelligent, maybe even lacked any. Perhaps that's why they didn't react much when he roused the crowd.
The miner dodged the first few fireballs easily, though he missed a couple, and was forced to take a portion of the fiery attacks. Oh, how they hurt. He didn't allow this to deter him, and he used his arms to block the ice shards that came at him, shattering into fragments that pelted against him, leaving more dents.
The fireballs, however, were proving problematic.
C-14 rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding another blast of flame, but a second one followed the first, striking his left arm, scorching the armor plating. He winced as the heat scorched his plating, then growled in annoyance, looking up at the red bot, before his gaze turned to Green.
The green bot, still in its two-wheeled form, circled the around the arena walls with dizzying speed, waiting for the perfect klik to strike. C-14 couldn't let it catch him off-guard, knowing its speed could be its most dangerous aspect.
As he thought this, the green bot veered off the wall and angled directly toward him, coming in low, its wheels sparking against the arena floor as it picked up speed. The green bot unleashed its special weapon—acidic jets sprayed from hidden nozzles along its sides, sizzling as they hit the floor, leaving smoking trails of corrosion in their wake.
The gladiator jumped straight up into the air, flipping over the bot's path. The acid narrowly missed him, spraying harmlessly beneath where he had been standing just a nano-klik before. Mid-flip, he twisted his frame and extended one leg downward, slamming his heel strut into the green bot's back as it passed beneath him.
The impact was brutal. The green bot skidded across the arena floor, sparks flying as its sleek frame scraped against the polished surface. It struggled to regain control, flipping over as it transformed back into bot form.
C-14 didn't allow it to recover. He landed and immediately charged toward the green bot, his arm breaking apart, separating and shifting into its new form. A blade extended over his servo, reinforced by blue and grey plating, not replacing it like his blasters had. It looked like two parallel blades, but in truth, it was one split down the middle, the shaft narrowing from base to the tip.
But before he could get close, the red and blue bots struck again. The blue bot fired another barrage of ice spikes, aiming for his legs. Red, from the opposite side, hurled another wave of molten fireballs.
The miner was forced to break off his attack, pivoting just in time to avoid being dented by the ice and burnt by the fire. At this point, he was irritated with these abominations. He targeted the red bot first, knowing that eventually the combination of heat and cold was going to weaken his armor. The red bot leaped into the air, its servos glowing as it prepared to unleash a volley of fire.
C-14 anticipated the move.
He slashed upward, catching the red bot mid-leap. It let out a high-pitched shriek as the blade sliced through its armor with a screech of metal on metal, sending it crashing to the ground in a heap of sparking wires. Its systems deactivated with a low hum.
The crowd grew louder, nearly deafening as Blue made a noise that sounded like a cry of anger, charging toward him. Without hesitation, the gladiator fired a point-blank blast from his blaster, sending the ice-wielding bot flying backward, slamming into the wall with a deafening crunch.
Only the green bot remained, now back on its pedes and preparing for another charge. C-14's optics narrowed as he calculated his final strike. He had to finish this now.
The green bot transformed again, albeit choppily, and raced toward him, acid spraying from its sides. He dodged the acid, moving quickly left and right in a zigzag pattern to avoid being sprayed and slashed downward as it raced past him.
Metal screeched as the blades connected, cutting deep into the vehicle. It transformed back into its bipedal mode, letting out a whine and clutching its abdomen, sparks flying from the damaged area, but didn't fall.
It whirled around, aiming its deadly nozzles at him, but C-14 was ready. He ducked as Green sprayed at him and crossed the short distance within a nano-klik. His fist connected with the acid-wielding bot's midsection in a devastating punch that sent it crashing to the floor.
The force of the impact cracked the polished hexagonal tiles, its systems sputtering as it caved into a heap of twisted metal. The crowd roared, their cheers deafening as C-14 stood victorious once again. He deactivated his blades and glanced around at the broken bodies of the triplets.
Another victory. Another fight to survive. But deep inside, he felt regret in his spark.
Shockwave looked down at the miner, C-14 lying on his slab. The mech hadn't sustained much damage in his fight against his creations, which he was pleased with. The gladiator's frame was littered with scorch marks, scratches, scars and shallow grooves but looked to be remarkably intact as always. The scientist knew that C-14 was an excellent fighter, being one of the pit's top gladiators, though not as good as Megatronus.
His gaze swept the miner's frame, assessing the wear and tear from battle. The larger mech groaned, shifting uncomfortably on the slab, grumbling about his struts aching. Shockwave paid no attention to his complaints, more focused on his disappointment.
J-23, J-24, and J-25, his elemental experiments that he had crafted just a cycle before, had been thoroughly dismantled in the arena. He had anticipated their destruction to some degree, of course. He was a scientist, after all, and the purpose of his experiments were designed to gather data. Yet he had hoped they might've lasted longer.
Without a word, he activated his scanner and passed it over C-14's frame. The readings confirmed what his optic already told him—the miner was in decent condition, better than most gladiators after such a battle. There were no critical injuries, no structural damage that would prevent him from returning to the pits.
The complaints about his struts were nothing more than his usual gripes, a byproduct of the intense physical strain the mines and arena placed on a bot's frame. Cosmetic damage was all that remained, and even the scorch marks on his plating were trivial.
"You have sustained minimal damage from battle," Shockwave finally said, moving to his console and typing. "As always, you emerge from your battle without severe injuries."
"Doesn't feel like it," he grumbled, pushing himself off the slab.
C-14 stood and moved toward the medbay doors. The scientists didn't miss the glare that the miner shot him before the doors slid closed, sealing his frame from his line of vision. Shockwave stopped typing, staring at the spot the mech had been a nano-klik ago.
C-14 was… remarkable. He was a fascinating subject, but what had truly captured Shockwave's interest were the strange readings—some of which were from his spark—he had detected during previous scans.
Deep within the gladiator's frame, beneath layers of armor and structure, there was something… unusual. A hidden obstruction in the data that no ordinary Cybertronian should possess. It was as though something was shielding or masking parts of his internal systems, something Shockwave had not been able to fully analyze.
The Functionists, too, had taken a special interest in the miner, constantly keeping an optic on him. Their interest had only made him more curious. If they had noticed C-14, then the miner was far more important than even he had initially believed.
If he were allowed to dissect the miner, to peel back the layers of his plating and explore what lay beneath, perhaps he could discover something inside C-14 that even the gladiator himself was unaware of—a potential power or technology hidden within his frame. But until he could get the mech onto his dissection table, it was all just speculation.
The arena boss had made it clear that C-14 was off-limits. The gladiator was one of the arena's star fighters, and if Shockwave were to experiment on him, the boss would revoke his access to the seemingly endless supply of gladiators that passed through the pits. And that, more than anything, would hinder his research.
And while Shockwave rarely concerned himself with the opinions of others, he could not deny the value of the steady supply of test subjects the arena provided. Sacrificing that for a single bot, no matter how interesting, was not a logical choice.
For now, he would have to be patient. Shockwave turned back to the console and resumed typing. Patience had always been one of his virtues, even when it came to experiments of this nature. The time would come when he would have access to C-14's inner workings. When the miner was no longer useful in the pits, when his victories waned, and the arena bosses lost interest in him—that would be his opportunity.
C-14 looked down at his talons that were splattered with energon. It was from the green bot, whom he had pounded into scrap metal. While he knew that the drone could be barely counted as a sentient, living being, he still felt a bit guilty.
He used the solvent and the cloth that had been given to him as one of his rewards for another successful fight to scrub off the dried energon, which was starting to grow itchy. He scrubbed furiously at the lifeblood coating his servo until there was no signs of it.
The miner vented heavily, turning to look at the energon cube that had been inserted into the slot on the metal door to his shared quarters. It had 'C-14' etched onto the surface, marking it at his so that the others wouldn't take it for themselves. They had tried in the past, only to get beaten up by him. It was only to teach them a lesson. He would never, ever kill any of them, unlike other mechs.
He trudged over to the cube, inserting the cleaning supplies into the slot, and picked up his energon ration. It was one of his rewards for another successful win in the arena. The credits along with it had probably been transferred to his account already, though he knew it wasn't much because the overseers would take most of his earnings and give him what was left.
C-14 pocketed his energon ration in his subspace and returned to his berth, laying down. He stared up at the ceiling, listening to the soft sound of his vents cycling air and the low hum of his spark. It was almost comforting. He vented softly, thinking of the possibilities of the future.
One of these solar cycles, he would buy his freedom and get the pit out of here. He would do whatever he wanted, he would be whoever he desired. It would only take thirty million more credits, and that could be a reality. At the pace he was earning credits, it would probably be a few vorns before he had enough to buy his freedom.
It would feel like an eternity to him, considering his line of work, but it was better than nothing. As long as he didn't die in one of his matches or in the mines, he would be fine. C-14 shifted uncomfortably in his berth, rolling over onto his side and staring at the wall.
His resting place wasn't much better than the floor, though slightly more cushioned. He knew that the high castes had much better berths, far more comfortable than the measly slabs that they were given to recharge on.
His thoughts drifted back to the fight and then to DV-44. The miner frowned at the thought of the miner who considered him to be his enemy. Their fights dated all the way back to the beginning, when they first were thrown into the mines.
DV-44 had always hated him, something that C-14 didn't understand. He hadn't done anything physically to hurt to him, until two solar cycles ago when he tore off half his faceplate. The miner felt guilty that he had hurt a bot out of his own volition. Usually, he killed or harmed someone because the arena overlords forced him to. If he didn't, death awaited him.
The arena was no place for the weak.
C-14 rolled onto his back again, staring up at the bottom side of the miner's berth that was above him. He heard the creak of them moving on their slab before he heard a low hiss.
"Quit it," they growled lowly. "I'm trying to recharge here."
The miner was tempted to disobey, but decided against it, knowing better. C-14 wanted to read the book Chainlink gave him, but according to his chronometer, it was late already. If he woke up late again, he would be in a world of trouble. He would either be beaten again, or he would have an extra shift and cut back energon rations.
Neither was desirable.
Another time, he decided, offlining his optics and drifting off into recharge.