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CHAPTER ONE: IN THE RUINS OF A DEAD WORLD
***
In the end, it wasn't the war that cost us Cybertron. It wasn't a conqueror's wrath, or a losers final spite. It was something else, something from beyond. A song of despair, sent out across the universe, that worked to infect the sparks of all it touched. And when those sparks were overcome by emotions like grief and guilt, despair and fear, they were devoured from within.
So many worlds were destroyed by this evil, and ours was no different. Soon, even the lifespark of Cybertron was infected and warped, until the very ground turned against us. We had no choice but to abandon our home by whatever means we could, to seek safety in the cold of space. In those dark days, the differences between our nations were forgotten, as we all fought to save who we could.
Now, like so many others, we drift between the stars, scavenging what we can from the murdered worlds. We've found ways to shield ourselves from the Void Siren, to some extent. But it's always out there, waiting to finish the work it began so long ago.
***
Aside from them, the city was utterly silent. No people, no animals, no power. Even the wind was utterly still. It was an unnatural silence, the sort that would make even the most hardened veteran want to flee as fast as possible.
Rodimus found it somewhat depressing that he'd gotten so used to ignoring that part of his instincts.
Next to him, Minerva was less composed, focusing on the scanner in her hands to avoid looking at their surroundings. "No unusual radiation spikes, no active nanotech or organic pathogens. Aetherical readings are like a deserted asteroid. It's just… dead," the red and white plated Autobot said at last, looking up with a shudder.
He merely nodded slightly. "So, probably the Song again."
"Almost certainly sir."
Shuttering his optics for a moment, Rodimus fought back the familiar stab of despair and grief thoughts of the Endsong always invited. Such emotions were how the damn thing wormed its way into your spark after all, rotting your essence from the inside out and leaving you a mockery of life. He'd lost too many friends that way to fall into the trap himself. "Hardtop. Find yourself a nice perch. I want you on lookout."
"Minny just said the place is dead," the smallest bot of the team noted, even as he pointed towards one of the taller skyscrapers. "That should work for overwatch."
Rodimus shrugged slightly. "Call me paranoid if you want, but it wouldn't be the first time an alien species had its Defiled turn out to be waiting for life to return so they could kill again." He couldn't help but smirk. "Remember what happened to Blitzwing."
That drew a laugh from Hardtop, the noise echoing weirdly across the deserted park they'd landed in. "Even if he wishes we wouldn't," the green and purple mechanoid said. "Still, it's a fair point."
Behind them, the last member of their team couldn't help but giggle softly as she stepped off the shuttle, shaking her head. "No one wants to be the next mech to need to visit Ratchet for a problem like that," Dustoff commented, her camo-patterned armor plates shifting as she stretched. "Care for a lift?" Hardtop nodded, and the larger bot transformed, components shifting, unfolding and compressing in an intricate pattern, replacing a feminine humanoid figure with a well armored helicopter, blades already spinning fast enough to lift her into the air. Jumping slightly to reach her, Hardtop grabbed onto one of the landing struts, letting her carry him ever higher above the ground.
"Catch up when you're done!" Rodimus called after them, before turning back to Minerva. "No point in staying here. There's about five miles between here and the crash site. Let's roll." Minerva nodded, and the pair transformed to their alt-modes as well. Engines roared to life, and the two living vehicles pulled out of the park and onto the road beyond. Behind them, the shuttle lifted off, setting off for a flight pattern high above the city, just in case.
It was never easy navigating a city like this. Whatever the dominant lifeforms of this world had looked like, they were clearly much smaller than the average Transformer, perhaps reaching Rodimus' knees at most. Footpaths and walkways often proved too narrow for the pair, and while the roads were somewhat evenly scaled with their vehicle modes, the amount of debris and various abandoned vehicles meant that a good deal of creative maneuvering was required.
And if he was being entirely honest, Rodimus was grateful for the difficulties. The combination of rally driving, switching modes, and parkour was keeping his mind focused on the task at hand, and stopping his mind from lingering on the unpleasant details. Such as how the local apocalypse had been so quick and total there were so many vehicles left on the road. Or the way that so many of those vehicles had clearly been torn open from the inside…
As he slid over the top of what looked like an old bus, Dustoff swooped overhead, the sound of her rotors helping to combat the unnatural silence all around them. "Take the third left along this path," she called out. "It looks like the clearest route."
"I've got optics on the impact site," Hardtop said over the squads comm channel. "Still no sign of movement."
"Not a surprise," Minerva replied while swerving around a car, clipping the edge of the sidewalk in the process. "The escape pods on the Wayforward were fitted with deep stasis systems to prevent long-term spark contamination. Those systems are durable, but they take a long time to pull the subject back to a fully aware state."
Above, Dustoff made a noise of disgust. "I hate those things. Dragging your spark so close to Mortilus' domain… it's unnatural," she said, a shudder running through her fuselage. "Still, I have to admit, it's better than the alternative."
Sliding under a low pedestrian walkway, Rodimus couldn't help but smile in bitter agreement, before switching to vehicle mode and continuing forward.
***
Reaching down, Rodimus hooked his hand under the bottom of the roller door and pulled up. After being untouched for so long, the door promptly refused to move up in its guides, instead tearing apart. "Oh come on," he grumbled, fighting with the tangled pile of metal for a moment and trying to ignore the two femmes laughing at him.
Nothing jumped out at them as they stepped inside, and there were no unpleasant surprises revealed by their lights. Just an old warehouse filled with pallets of what looked like electronic goods, with a massive hole in the roof and an impact crater underneath.
"I see the escape pod," Minerva said, the headlights in her shoulder pads sweeping over a small, cone shaped craft that barely reached her waist, its metal hull dented and scorched from reentry and the landing. "Minor damage, but it appears intact."
"Maybe we should have brought you with us Hardtop," Rodimus grumbled, looking the pod over. "It's a single person pod from a micromaster ship."
"It's smol?" Dustoff said, giggling, as she circled above, shining her own lights through the broken roof.
"It's smol," he replied with a sigh.
"Do I need to come down there to press tiny buttons for you?" Hardtop asked, clearly amused.
"We'll be fine," Minerva chuckled, holding up her left hand. As Rodimus watched, her index finger split open to reveal several small tools. "I generally use these for surgery, but I'm sure they can handle tiny buttons and switches," the medic noted, kneeling down next to the pod, then pausing, her expression becoming much more serious. "Scrap."
"Problem?"
In reply, she tilted her shoulder pads down, shining her lights over the bottom of the pod… and the dark, organic looking webbing there. "Unknown substance, possibly organic."
"We haven't seen anything organic since making planetfall," Hardtop said. "Not even remains. Tripwire?"
"Yeah, that would be just our luck, wouldn't it?" Rodimus muttered, slighting a visor down over his optics for a closer look. After flipping through several settings, his scowl only got worse. "Nothing. No heat, no emissions of any sort, just enough aether to remain tangible. Looks like the Defiled still have a presence here."
Dustoff spoke up, her voice as serious and worried as her teammates. "Well then, it doesn't take an investigative mind like Prowls to work out the chain of events. The Wayforward suffers engine failure upon arriving in this system, he heads for this planet hoping to find life. When the engine failure reaches the point of tearing the ship apart, he abandons ship."
Nodding to herself, Minerva continued the train of thought. "While he is more than comfortable traveling by himself under normal conditions, he logically concludes that in this… necropolis, it's safer to place himself into deep stasis, rather than risk the Sirens Song infecting his spark. But it was still enough to draw the Deflieds attention."
"And while they might not have enough intelligence left to get at him, they still may have enough instinct to wait for him to come out," Rodimus finished.
As usual, Hardtop was less interested in the past, and more focused on the problem in the present. "So, now we know it's likely trapped, how do you wanna play this one boss?"
In reply, Rodimus grinned to himself, standing back up and sliding the visor back into his helmet. "How else? We spring the trap. Moving the entire pod will take time and almost certainly wake whatever abominations are 'sleeping' anyway. Get ready, all of you. We may need to move fast. Flight, this is Rodimus," he continued, switching channels. "Be advised, it may be about to get loud down here. Stand by for possible hot extraction."
"Copy that Rodimus," their shuttle pilot replied. "Remember, there's nowhere big enough to land within several miles, you''ll likely need to get on the rooftops if it comes to that."
Next to him, Minerva couldn't help but sigh. "Because it can never be easy…" she muttered. "Cracking the seal." The operating waldos from her finger danced over the pods small keypad, entering a series of commands. For a moment, nothing happened. Then a series of lights, starting at the top of the pod and running down to the base, lit up, first in red, before shifting to green.
Rodimus glanced at the organic webbing, seeing no reaction, then turned to look around the warehouse. There was no new movement, nothing in the shadows that hadn't been there before. He scowled, watching his lights, and those from Dustoff above, cut through the darkness, looking for any sign of trouble, then frowned, taking a closer look at the beams themselves.
With a puff of escaping air, the seal on the escape pod broke, and the hatch swung upward without issue, revealing a tiny red and cream robot, one small enough that he could ride inside the rescue teams vehicle modes without issue. Almost immediately, the bot began to lean forward, blue optics flickering to life. "Countdown, can you hear me?" Minerva said. "We received your distress signal and came to assist."
"Know that voice… Minerva? Yes. Minerva, medical officer… assigned to Lost Light…"
"Yes sir. Can you move? This site isn't safe."
One of Countdowns optics went dark, while the other flared brighter. "I… Carry me," he said his voice growing stronger as he reached an arm out. "We have to go, now!"
Realizing just why the light wasn't cutting through the dark quite as well as it should have been, Rodimus spun, seizing the smaller bots arm. "Outside, now!" he barked at Minerva, right as the shadows themselves lunged to attack.
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