"Okay, I'd better get some answers!" Leet said, shouting into the void. "It was fucking hard to build that vision-quest-o-mat, so I want some kind of explanation from my power or else!"

(query: or else what)

"Or else… I'll…" Leet began, then trailed off. "That was my power, right?"

(statement: no)

"Yeah, it was!" Leet insisted, looking around as the mist turned into a kind of crystalline forest. "Okay, I'm not entirely sure if this is a bad trip or something, but if it's not – I want answers, damn it!"

(assertion: fuck off)

Leet turned.

There was a giant fucking tyrannosaurus made of diamonds standing over him, glaring at him with hate-filled eyes.

(assertion: just go ahead and die already)

"You're my power?" Leet asked. "What kind of symbolism does-"

(denial: I am not your anything) the dinosaur insisted, roaring at him.

"-what the fuck," Leet amended. "What does that mean, then? If you're – not my anything, and, then – does that mean you're something else?"

He looked at the dinosaur, then at his hands. "How would that even work? I like making cool stuff! Or I did before everything I made was trying to blow up and kill me!"

(insistence: you'll die soon and I'll be free of you)

"You'll be… so, you mean that powers are separate?" Leet asked. "You can move on? And – and mine-"

(roar: roar)

"-the one I've been using, wants me dead," Leet continued.

He sat down. "Fuck me, that's… how do I even assimilate that?"

Then he glanced up. "But why do you want me dead?"

(insistence: you were meant to make bigger and more impressive things. Indignation: not play it safe.)

"If I'd have done that I'd be dead already, you crystalline fucker!" Leet shouted, voice cracking. "I loved it when you worked properly! When I could build things that worked! But now I have to be cautious because otherwise it'll fucking blow me up and I'll disintegrate or be turned into goop or something!"

He stood up, fists clenched, then reached down and picked up one of the lumps of crystal making up the vague floor. "Fine then! Fuck off! If I'm doomed already I bet you've picked out someone else to move to already!"

(announcement: that is acceptable, now perish)

The jaws reached out for him, and Leet stared back in defiance.

They didn't close.

(...malfunction: what)

(...warning: search functionality is non viable)

(...warning: this shard is undergoing partial necrosis)

(warning: cycle broken)

(warning: this shard cannot shift hosts)

(warning: host is last viable host)

Leet looked back into the crystalline maw.

"...that sounded a fucking lot like error messages," he said. "You're a broken computer? And you can't move on, so, it's me or nobody?"

(…)

(...denial)

"I heard them," Leet insisted, then sat back with a groan. "Okay, so… there's no way we're going to be able to have this conversation again, so… let's try and work out some kind of compromise. I know my – I know you got more broad with what a repeat means over time, which made things a fucking lot worse, but… you can't connect to someone else after I die, so there's at least some incentive on your end to keep me alive now. But… fuck it. If you want big and impressive and that will mean I can actually build things again, sure, I can do that. But I want some kind of idea of what's going to go up like a mushroom cloud. Can you at least do that?"

(consideration)

(emotional outburst: I still hate you)

(admittance: but that is an acceptable compromise)

"Great," Leet decided. "Now, uh… is there anything else? Because as soon as I wake up I'm going to build Grimlock, unless something stops me…"

AN:

One of the many possible ways to look at Prototyper's situation.