Chapter Ten: On The Move
Leo sat quietly in the back of Bumblebee as they raced along the sandy roads. Even days later, it still felt strange to accept that the very thing he had been desperately searching for over the last few years was real. He had seen the videos and listened to the audio, yet a part of him still believed what governments around the world were saying: it was nothing.
Oh, but it was the opposite. Everything Leo had done, spending countless hours desperately scavenging for, was real, and he found himself right in the centre of it all. Unintentionally at the centre of everything because Leo was just a tagalong—someone who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Leo was just a conspiracy theorist who believed alien robots had come to Earth.
It was his unexpecting roommate that everything revolved around. She had managed to blend so effortlessly into college campus life, never drawing attention to herself and never going out of her way to be seen beyond some basic acquaintances. She was perfectly mundane to anyone from the outside. Nothing about Zelda sent alarm bells going off inside Leo's head. There were no hidden, secretive motions, nothing Leo expected of someone with things to hide.
(But this wasn't a movie. This was real life.)
Zelda wasn't any of that at all. She was the furthest thing from mundane. Leo thought back to the weeks that they had shared the dorm room. Zelda kept everything neat, with nothing explicitly in sight beyond some clothes and her schoolwork. Not even a flash of her unmentionables were ever in sight. Everything Leo expected from a roommate—a bit messy, a bit all over the place, perhaps some issues with space—wasn't there. Zelda was almost non-existent in her presence. She ghosted along, he might even say.
Leo had spotted her around campus rarely, and if he had, it was only because of her ginger hair.
Nothing about Zelda screamed I-saved-the-world-two-years-ago.
In hindsight, Leo realised he had overlooked many subtle details about her appearance that, at the time, seemed unremarkable. One was that she always donned long sleeves or, on certain occasions, opted for a shirt with one sleeve fashioned long while the other remained short. She constantly, no matter what, paired it with a fitted glove that concealed her right hand, a detail she seemed eager to keep under wraps. Whenever the topic arose, she would offer a smile and a light laugh before brushing it off casually with a few nonchalant words about old burns that left her feeling self-conscious.
Leo had never once seen a hint of anything suspicious, not before everything fell apart. The truth was far from what he had imagined: her right arm wasn't flesh at all but rather a prosthetic. It was an advanced piece of technology, sleek and intricately designed, resembling something that could have leapt straight from the pages of a superhero comic. The precision and functionality of it were astounding from what little he had seen of it, and it was clear that it wasn't just some…cosplay.
But what's more was that the hushed conversations exchanged among Zelda, the Autobots (and the two Decepticons now accompanying them), and even Simmons hinted at a life steeped in secrecy. It was evident that Leo was unaware of the depths of these discussions, which circled around matters he wasn't…authorised to know as a civilian. The mechanical arm that Zelda possessed alone suggested she had engaged in far more than merely thwarting a global crisis two years prior. There was an undeniable air of mystery surrounding Zelda as a whole, and Leo couldn't help but wonder what other extraordinary feats she had accomplished that remained hidden from him and the world at large.
Despite the urgent circumstances surrounding them, Leo couldn't shake the feeling that she was more than she seemed. The way she carried herself—calm, composed, and mostly unfazed by the chaos around them—led him to believe she might be a secret spy or even an assassin, which wow, not something Leo ever thought he would be thinking. Her demeanour was almost unsettling at times. It was as if the mounting tension and danger in the air didn't touch her at all when Zelda got focused.
Zelda was turning out to be every child's dream: to grow up and do extraordinary things—to grow up and save the world. If their world were just fiction, Leo would call her the protagonist. It gave Leo mixed feelings; he couldn't deny it. He was a little envious because who wouldn't be? But he was also just…relieved too. Leo was barely scratching the surface about Zelda's involvement with the Cybertronians (what was what they were called, right? Autobots were the good guys, Decepticons were the bad. A tale as old as time).
Zelda…Zelda was someone entangled in a life of secrecy and complexity beyond anything a civilian could ever begin to comprehend. It scared Leo.
There, he said it.
Zelda kinda, sort of, terrified him.
Leo wasn't afraid to admit that, but Zelda was also good and kind and thoughtful.
But right now, she wasn't looking so good. She hadn't since the whole episode at the college, where…the Decepticons used this AllSpark power to resurrect Megatron? Leo didn't entirely understand it—he felt slightly out of the loop because of it—but ever since then, Zelda had been in an evident decline. She was pale, the now blonde hair making her appear even more washed out, and Zelda had been consistently breathless since waking up. Leo thought it tied to the exhaustion that weighed heavily on her shoulders.
Leo knew it was not his place to point it out—he was far from the only one to see the obvious—but none had questioned her, at least not while Leo was around to hear it.
"So," Simmons finally broke the silence after almost half an hour driving away from where Jetfire had warped them. Leo wondered what happened to the guy. He was old and against probably younger and non-rusted versions of his people. Would he even be a match?
The four of them had all migrated into Bumblebee despite Sideswipe's protest that Zelda stay with him. Sunstreaker had made a vague passive-aggressive comment Leo had no idea of the context about (something about Zelda lying or avoiding something by omission?), to something Leo didn't hear Zelda say, but it seemed to piss Zelda off. Now, Zelda was outright refusing to speak to either of the twins when one communicated through Bumblebee's radio.
Two can play at that game, Leo thought. Whatever was said between them was probably a sore spot; Leo knew Sunstreaker wasn't happy with Frenzy's presence, but was that enough for an argument?
Mikaela sat up front with Simmons, and Leo was in the back with Zelda. Wheelie was sat in the small, barely considered middle seat. The other one, the red one, Frenzy, collapsed into a cassette tape of all things and Zelda was keeping hold of him.
(…but why a cassette tape was beyond Leo, and he certainly wouldn't be asking any time soon. But Zelda had reacted fondly, her eyes twinkling as a grin threatened to spread across her face. She hadn't said anything, but Zelda had tucked him into the breast pocket of the jacket Simmons had loaned her.)
"Any of you guys going to spill where we're going?" Simmons continued. Leo barely caught it, wrapped up in his thoughts.
"Dagger's Tip," Zelda spoke for the first time since climbing into Bumblebee. Her voice was a little off in a way Leo couldn't place. A bit winded, perhaps? "That's what the Ancient Sumerians used to call the Gulf of Aqaba, and it divides Egypt and Jordan like the tip of a blade."
"How do you know that?" Mikaela asked, turning in the passenger seat to look at Zelda.
"…" Zelda gave Mikaela a…not flat look but an exhausted one. "Remember when we first met the Autobots? What did Optimus say when Sam asked about the glasses?"
Mikaela blinked, and then she laughed.
Leo was lost. "…an explanation, please?"
"Cybertronians are a super-advanced race from another planet, Leo. It's not hard for them to connect to the internet and find out," Zelda explained tiredly with a half-condescending tilt of her mouth.
Oh. Oh. Leo feels stupid. "…Right."
Simmons snorted from the driver's seat. "So what's the plan after that?"
"We're going to get N.E.S.T to bring Optimus to Dagger's Tip," Zelda continued.
"And how are you gonna get him halfway around the world?" the former agent questioned.
"Bee?" Zelda shifted, leaning forward between the front seats. "Do you all have a stable line with the others?"
"We do," Bumblebee chirped in confirmation. "Though it's Sunstreaker doing most of the chatting with Jazz and occasionally Ratchet."
Leo recognised Jazz as the third guy who helped Zelda move into the dorm, but Zelda grimaced at the second name, and Leo wondered why. "Okay, could you patch us through?"
"Give me a sec," Bumblebee said, and his radio…wavered as though changing channels. Then, a new voice, one Leo recognised, came through.
"=Hey, sweet=" the voice said. It was who Leo thought it would be—the dark-skinned guy who Zelda called her brother in everything but blood. How long had these Cybertronians—the Autobots—been on Earth for Zelda to know them so intimately? "=Sunstreaker's been keepin' us updated but Bee said you've got yourself a bit of a lead regarding The Fallen?="
"What has Sunny told you?" Zelda asked, voice no-nonsense.
Leo watched how Zelda just…switched. Her entire demeanour changed, as though this was just…another workday for her. Maybe it was. Maybe Leo hadn't been so far from the truth about Zelda's life as he had first thought. Leo knew a real spy, awesome.
"=You found yourself a Seeker able to help with those scripts and are now followin' the lead he gave ya. Sunstreaker's been vague beyond that for safety reasons=" Jazz explained. "=What do you need?="
"We're heading to the Gulf of Aqaba. Bee, could you forward a datapack real quick?" Zelda asked, and Bumblebee gave a wordless affirmative. Jazz hummed, signalling he had gotten it. "We're after an artefact called the Matrix of Leadership. It's a key to…powering some ancient Cybertronian machine here on Earth. The Fallen wants to turn it on and harvest the energon from our sun."
"=…Ah frag, talk about gloom and doom=" Jazz murmured. "=I'll catch the others up. What else do you need, sweetspark?="
"We need Optimus. Jetfire was confident only another Prime could combat The Fallen. Have the guys been shipped off to base? Has Ratchet been able to tend to Optimus?"
"=The core members of N.E.S.T remain. There's 'bout fifty-odd human soldiers. I know Major Lennox will be eager to help=" Jazz answered, something tight in his voice. Annoyance? Leo remembered overhearing how this N.E.S.T operation was being shut down because the liaison was taking advantage of the Prime's death. "=And yeah, it was the first time Ratchet did. Our Hatchet got scarily quiet for a while.="
There was an attempt at lightening the mood with the last comment being in reference to something, and it drew a choked laugh from Zelda before she took a breath. "Good, 'cause I have a feeling we're going to need all the help we can. With any luck, we might stand a chance."
Leo didn't like those odds.
Megatron scratched away the remaining growth from his time at the bottom of the Challenger Deep, optics watching as the old Seeker fled the area with surprising speed. But he had done damage to Skywarp and Thundercracker. Despite his old age, he had battled the younger two easily. Megatron knew that his size and knowledge had given the older Seeker the advantage in this instance.
It wouldn't last long, but Megatron knew never to underestimate anyone, regardless of size or age. His life as a gladiator had been long, and it taught him as much. Additionally, his Master himself was a powerful adversary to any who faced him, and Megatron had learnt early never to underestimate someone because of that.
The thought of his Master stewed something within him, and Megatron gnashed his denta as he flicked away the debris, confused about why. It had only begun happening since his resurrection.
Skywarp and Thundercracker came flying back, swooping down and transforming. The ground shook and rocks tumbled from the cliff face as they landed heavily.
"That was fun," Skywarp remarked. Megatron didn't need to see his face to know he was grinning.
"I didn't think Seekers as old as that still lived," Thundercracker said, coming to stand beside him, looking out in the direction the old energon Seeker had vanished in. Megatron hummed to let the blue Seeker know he was acknowledged but didn't say anything.
Soundwave had given a warning about the possible Seeker designated Jetfire, but Megatron hadn't known what to expect. The Fallen had spoken of the Seekers who had been scraplets in his side long before Megatron had been kindled.
"Any sign of the Autobots?" he asked.
"Negative," Skywarp reported. "They'd fled before we arrived. Want us to scout after them?"
The hunt wasn't solely focused on the Autobots; their elimination was merely a side goal. While the thought of terminating them would undoubtedly bring a rush of satisfaction, it was not the primary objective driving Megatron and his Decepticon forces. Their true focus lay on the human femme under their protection—a strategic pawn in a far greater game. Zelda Larsson held a significance that went beyond mere collateral.
He could feel her faintly like a cord being strum from afar.
Megatron's mind was haunted by the details of the battle and everything that led up to his termination. He vividly recalled the moment he broke free from the suffocating grip of the icy prison that had enshrouded him for what felt like an eternity. The air was frigid, the chill biting at his metallic exterior, yet within him, an inferno of rage had simmered, threatening to scorch through the remnants of his damaged circuitry.
He had felt violated at the knowledge that the humans, with their frail bodies and expressions of misplaced bravado, had dared lay their servos on him. Their touch had been an affront, their mere presence an insult. The very thought of those insignificant creatures daring to touch him threatened to reignite that surge of fury within, but he tempered it.
But oh, meeting those optics on that rooftop made up for all that time imprisoned in ice. Such fierce optics reminded Megatron of the sabres back on Cybertron, felines known for their deadly defensiveness.
The first time Megatron had ever laid an optic on one, it had been trafficked and used as entertainment in the Pits. It had taken down three gladiators before one managed to kill it. Megatron had not…enjoyed that aspect of the Pits, but he had watched the fight excitedly because this was a sabre, a rare wild beast.
As Megatron had gazed across that rooftop, he had felt a rush reminiscent of long ago when he had witnessed that fight. Zelda Larsson was fierce and would not go down easily—and she hadn't. Instead, she had brought him down, using the very thing that had created his kind to terminate him.
Zelda Larsson would have made a fine Cybertronian. It was a pity she was born human.
Surprisingly, she had emitted a spark signature. Perhaps an upload was not entirely out of the question. The thought excited something within him.
But what fascinated Megatron more than that was how Zelda Larsson had become the AllSpark, the artefact that kept their race alive, the very thing she had used to kill him. And now, with his resurrection, he was bound to her as she was to him, despite how weak their connection was.
He gazed down at his servo, the one that had held her. He took pride in the damage that her metal servo had done, and that was strange. Megatron could not remember a time since his late stellar cycles in the Pits that he had proudly worn damage.
How…peculiar.
It was right around the time he had met The Fallen if his memories served correctly. And that…
"No," Megatron grinned, pushing the odd thought away. "She'll find the Matrix and walk straight into our servos while doing so. That I have no doubt about."
He wanted to see the look on her face when she realised it. It would be glorious, and Megatron would make her watch from his side where she belonged as his Master activated the Sun Harvester so that they could finally rebuild Cybertron.