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Glitch/Corr and hear <3
This got a bit graphic and goryđ
, soâŠ
HC: Corr sustained some hearing damage from the same event that took his arms, I donât explicitly mention it here, but
The Force resonates with awe-inspiring vastness, full of sound and wonder, and most of the time Glitch loves to listen to it.
Sometimes itâs like that pesky brother whoâs trying to get your attention to discuss his hairbrained theories and antics, for the fourty-third time, after curfew.
Glitch has a headache.
Before he knew what it was he was hearing, he got headaches a lot. Heâs used to it. It doesnât mean he likes it any better now than then.
Heâs following, shut UP already!
A hand lands in the middle of his chest, halting him. âNo civilians past the cordon,â a cloneâs vocoder-leveled but still appreciably bored voice orders.
âIâm not, and I need to go there,â Glitch says, leaning into his words and the restraining hand. âYou can let me in, Iâm cleared.â
âYou can go inâŠafter you suit up. Since youâre cleared.â
The clone gestures to a heavy blast-suit, bulky and cumbersome. Glitch canât function in that. He shifts his weight in preparation to move.
âHeâs not cleared, Jack, whatâs wrong with you?â another clone snaps, approaching. âHelp me get this on; and you, scram.â
âYes, Corporal,â Jack says, chastened. Sorry, he mouths at Glitch as the corporal straps on the extra armor.
The urgency is higher now, the Force like a klaxon in his head. Maybe thereâs a klaxon out loud too, Glitch realizes, as the corporal hurries up, glancing toward the cordoned-off area.
âCorporal,â Glitch tries, âI need toââ
âTo get the kriff out of my AoE and quit distracting me and my team,â the corporal says sharply. âWeâre on the clock.â
Jack snaps the last clasp into place and taps twice next to the reinforced face shield like heâs patting the guyâs cheek. âGood to go!â he signs with his other hand in front of his face.
And go he does. Glitch can only watch as the demolitions corporal tramps across the ground to the device, not gracefully in that get-up, but with the ease of familiarity. Jack, he realizes, has a timer heâs gleefully counting off out loud.
âCorrâs a machine; fucker beat my time! Iâm going to do him one better nexââ
.
âŠ
So thatâs what a bomb sounds like, is Glitchâs first dazed thought.
HOT, is his next. Something is crackling in his ears, and he looks around for Jack, for any of the others, and finds the world on fire with no one in sight. That adds up, he thinks nonsensically, and then looks at himself.
Shrapnel and slag are scattered all around him but not on or through his body, like the discolored dry shadow behind a retaining bulkhead hit by a wave. Heâthe Forceâprobably did that. He didnât know he could do that.
Whereâs Jack. The Force had probably wanted him to prevent this. The klaxon is still shrieking, or noâthatâs too irregular.
Glitch follows the sound. The Corporal is struggling in his heavy suit of armor, trying to escape the burning crater. He canât climb out for some reason, even though itâs only thigh-deep. Glitch grabs at him and then thinks better of touching the hot surface. He grabs him with the Force instead, and yanks him up and out.
He doesnât see anyone else as he drags the Corporal to safety. Past the blast radius, he peels away the suit, slicing it with Rennaxâs saber when it hardens too much.
He pulls the man free with difficulty. Heâs slick with sweat and tears and blood, and not all of him comes free. Glitch almost hurls when he realizes the flexible gloves that allowed dexterity physically couldnât shield as well as the rest of the get-up, and the meat of his arms up to the elbow is shredded off the equally shattered bones.
Tourniquets from his belt, not thinking about it, just applying them, then he hoists the trooper up, the whole time yelling, âMedic!â
The sole survivor of the blast clings to him with the stumps of his ruined arms and shakes with uncontrollable sobs. Relief and grief entwine with one another. âYou. You got me. You heard me, you came,â he slurs. Accusation and gratitude are also inextricably bound in his tone.
Glitch wishes he could have done better, listened more carefully to the Force, actually prevented this from happening at all, but all he says is, âYeah, I got you.â His own voice is hoarse and thick.
Neither of them let go until a medic takes the injured trooper to evac. Glitch watches him get loaded up, then regretfully turns away to follow the call of the Force once again.
Reverberating đ https://archiveofourown.org/works/51595036
#writing prompt#fanfiction#ask answered#cloneshipping#repcomm#clone trooper glitch#clone trooper corr#glitch/corr#EOD: explosive ordnance disposal#cw: gore#graphic injury#pre triple zero#post draay 2#timeline what timeline
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ELDRITCH ID PACK
NAMESïž°âabacuc.âabholos.âabianak.âaether.âahoth.âaine.âalala.âalder.âamadio.âarkham.âba'al.âbasmach.âbast.âbelial.âblank.âbonifatius.âbyagoona.âbyte.âcaelestoth.âcaine.âcalogerus.âchaos.âchrodechildis.âcipher.âclue.âcthulu.âcustodia.âcypher.âdaoloth.âdarkness.âdethal.âdiaz.âebony.âedwyn.âelder.âeldritch.âelm.âemereo.âenigma.âepiphagan.âepoch.âeternity.âfortunatus.âgodid.âhabakkuk.âhan.âhaze.âhitch.âhydra.âhynos.âieremahel.âilluminathia.âinpesca.âistasha.âjuniper.âkaiser.âkallistos.âkaos.âkaprosistha.âkeme.âkross.âlapse.âleto.âlovecraft.âluxoth.âlythalia.âmaya.âmechal.âmelekh.âmiasma.âmirabilis.âmirage.âmorana.âmormo.âmystery.ânctolhu.ânctosa.ânightmare.ânodens.ânoire.ânoxia.ânyctelios.âoddity.âoroprimus.âoroursus.âortun.âoryx.âoukranos.âpandora.âparadox.âperegrinus.âpseudo.âpulse.ârenatus.ârom.ârowan.âruna.ârune.ârunfrid.âsebek.âsitheach.âspy.âsthanee.âstitch.âstranger.âthasaidon.âtrojan.âtruth.âunoch.âuser.âveil.âvibur.âvoid.âvulture.âwylie.âxitalu.âyamath.âyorith.âzycanthe.
PRONOUNSïž°âabso/absolute.âabsolute/absolute.âanswer/answer.âblind/blind.âbook/book.âchao/chao.âchaos/chaos.âcipher/cipher.âclaw/claw.âclue/clue.âcode/code.âconfuse/confusion.âcorr/corrupt.âcorrupt/corrupt.âcosmic/cosmic.âcurio/curio.âcurse/curse.âcypher/cypher.âdanger/danger.âdark/dark.âdeath/death.âdeep/deep.âdeity/deity.âdelete/delete.âdepth/depth.âdestroy/destroy.âdev/devour.âdevour/devour.âdiety/diety.âdoll/doll.âdread/dread.âeat/eat.âeerie/eerie.âeld/eld.âelder/elder.âeldritch/eldritch.âen/en.âend/end.âeon/eon.âero/ero.âerror/error.âeter/eternity.âeternity/eternity.âeye/eye.âfaith/faith.âfear/fear.âfind/find.âflesh/flesh.âforgot/forgotten.âglitch/glitche.âglow/glow.âgod/god.âhidden/hidden.âhide/hide.âhint/hint.âhorr/horror.âhorror/horror.âhunt/hunt.âhx/hxm.âincompre/hensible.âit/it.âix/ix.âjolt/jolt.âlack/lack.ïżœïżœlord/lord.âlost/lost.âmad/mad.âmadness/madness.âmiasma/miasma.âmyst/myst.âold/old.âomen/omen.âone/one.âpuppet/puppet.âquiet/quiet.âraven/raven.âread/read.âsanity/sanity.âsee/see.âseek/seek.âshx/hxr.âspace/space.âspot/spot.âspy/spy.âstar/star.âstellar/stellar.âstep/step.âstring/string.âsubmit/submission.âsui/sui.âthat/thing.âthon/thon.âthxy/thxm.âtrack/track.âuncanny/uncanny.âunknown/unknown.âvirus/viruse.âvoid/void.âwhat/what.âwhisper/whisper.ââïž . đ . đïž . đ . đłïž . đ§ . 𧿠.
#pupsmailïž°id packs#id pack#npt#nput#name suggestions#name ideas#name list#pronoun suggestions#pronoun ideas#neopronouns#emojiself#nounself#eldritch#eldritchkin
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2025 Ship Schedule
Based on the nominations and then the voting poll, here is the first lineup for the Cloneship Rare Pair event! This will run through 2025 with two "featured" ships a month, and a list of six alternate ships that may be subbed in for any month.
Please see the event pinned post on the blog for more information.
January: Alpha-17/Fox Cody/Echo/Fives/Rex
February Howzer/Rex Boost/Sinker/Wolffe
March Boss/Niner Crosshair/Hunter/Tech/Wrecker
April Bacara/Ponds Fox/Stone/Thire/Thorn
May Alpha-17/Echo/Fives Fireball/Wrecker
June Cody/Fox/Rex Glitch/Hevy
July Cutup/Droidbait/Echo/Fives/Hevy Gregor/Wolffe
August Crosshair/Echo/Hunter Alpha-17/Cody
September Fi/Ordo Dogma/Fives/Tup
October Fox(Commander)/Fox(Sgt) Cody/Crosshair
November Corr/Mereel Boba/Omega
December Sandwich Clone/Soup Clone Boil/Cody/Waxer
Alternates: Cody/Fox/Wolffe Cody/Mayday Jesse/Kix/Rex Bacara/Neyo Crosshair/Howzer/Mayday Maze/Ordo
#decided to announce the whole line up so everyone would have all the chances to plan ahead#clonecest#cloneshipping#cloneshiprarepair2025
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Corrninstickerbeadic
(Core-nin-stick-bead-ick)
A gender related to old, corrupted Nintendo DSis, that contains the game Nintendogs, has stickers covering the case, and is in a pile of kandi beads!
Etmyology:
"Corr" from the word corrupted, "nin" from nintendo, the words sticker and bead, and then the suffix "-ic"
Coined by Raleigh of the verdant system, as a request !
Tagging: @catboy-autism & @radiomogai
[Flag ID: two almost identical flags, both with seven horizontal stripes all of equal width and length. The first three stripes are a gradient from dark to light pink, and then a light lavender, then a slightly darker lavender, then a dark purple, and then a darker purple that is closer to blue. The second flag has the same colours in order, but it also has a glitch-like image on the left side going towards the middle (vertical), in a triangle-like shape where the glitch goes farther towards the middle (horizontal) of the flag. It is mainly black with some small blocks of neon colour. End ID.]
#flag coining#xenogender#mogai coining#xeno coining#gender coining#mogai term#term coining#xenogenders#corrninstickerbeadic#corruptedgender#nintendogender#stickergender#beadgender#cw eyestrain#cw glitch#cw glitches#eyestrain
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HIII !!
ur blog looks rlly cool && i was wondering if i could have
â 1x4 OR 1eggs
as a full ID pack , pls && thank you :3c
( also could i be the đ anon ?? )
âăïčă1x1x1x1 ID PACKă !
đ§Șăâărequested by : anon ( đ )
đ§Șăâăposted by : jaxx
â ăïčănamesă đ
1x . 1x4 . 1x1x1x1 . aamon . adder . anwir . balor . bellinor . blazer . bolverkr . brantley . cain . cary . casimir . cifarelli . cole . corbin . csintalan . exe . damien . daray . darth . delaney . diablo . diabolos . dolion . dolus . donovan . draco . donahue . dugal . doyle . drefan . heolstor . ivan . keres . kerwin . kieran . krampus . malvolio . maverick . metis . morfran . morgoth . moros . mort . one . onyx . ormr . ozul . phoenix . rogue . tamesis . thanatos . torquil . treacher . tynan . ubel . wilder . x . zagan .
â ăïčăpronounsă đ
01 / 01 . 10110 / 101 . byte / bytes . chaos / chaos . code / codes . command / commands . mal / malware . mal / malfunction . data / data . cyb / cyber . digi / digital . e / exe . gli / glitch . in / install . li / link . vi / virus . web / site . wire / wires . h3 / h1m . h! / h!m . h# / h#m . shx / hxr . hx / hxm . ix / ix . 1x / 1x . hack / hacker . script / scripts . it / its . rib / cage . rib / ribs . death / deaths . negativity / negativities . despair / despair . slash / slash . demise / demises . decay / decay . slay / slayer . rot / rotten . para / paranoia . corr / corrupt . xi / xir . đ„ . 𩮠. âïž . đ§Ș . đ . đŸ . đ„ .
â ăïčătitlesă đ
his creation of hatred . the being of despair . the one who waits for the day . the slaughterer . prn who hates prns creator . prn who attacks . prn who hacks . the hacker . the failed work of art . prn who embodies negativity . the one who is devoid of positivity . no . 1 shedletsky hater ( /j ) . prn who is filled with rage . prn who doesn ' t forgive . prn who holds grudges . the inescapable one . prn who fires prns sword .
â ăïčălabelsă đ
n / a
â ăïčăgendersă đ
agender . gxndxrfluid . mxsculine . hatembodiment . inner ragic . fleshripped . detagender . timarix . weaponthing . monsteric . cyberthing . <?>gender . th?ng . necrogender . gender decay . malware gender . virus gender .
â ăïčăsystem namesă đ
the creations of hatred . the ones created by hatred . the fighters . the failed creations . the broken artworks . the holders of negativity . roblox ' s favourite hackers . reminders of the past . those who cast mass infliction .
#đ#ïœă!ăangelicgraveyard#ïœă!ăidăpack#ïœă!ărequestăfulfilled#1x1x1x1#forsaken#roblox#shedletsky#one#eggs#npt list#npt suggestions#npt#npts#name ideas#trans names#name suggestions#names#name list#pronoun ideas#pronoun list#pronoun sets#pronouns#neopronoun suggestions#neopronoun help#neopronoun ideas#neopronouns#mogai#lgbtqia#mogai friendly
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notable relations
coral (colorful-glitch) - his deceased former moirail. does he hate them, or love them, or any infinitely-nuanced answer in-between? who knows. ask him yourself if you'd like.
path (terrifaecapathy) - they both went offline at the same time, were inactive at the same time, doxxed at the same time, went back online at the same time. there's more stuff but let's just say there's history.
bullet (bullettimetableture) - honestly, his red crush was hilariously obvious back then. but, well... ever since that, he's been a little... hm. things have happened.
grafitti (grafitti-translator) - first person outside of his mutuals he first talked to. also someone that he would genuinely kill if grafitti even comes within ten feet of him.
mutini (mutant-advice) - in denial. how does he feel about her? well. a lot of things to say the least.
yvette (real-seadweller-heir) - world's most unconventional duo. why is yvette hanging out with corr. who knows.
raveri (devoniandevotee) - this is another "it's complicated" scenario. things sure have happened between them! i don't think corr processed that confession from his asks properly.
kulpil (echoicthylacine) - they are nothing, and they will continue to be nothing.
ranndy (cathartictactician) - a moth drawn to a flame.
lusmut (cyanidecornaceae) - let's just say that he's also one of the ogs. đ„§
aya (gyratingass) - how are you supposed to react when a fellow jadeblood attempts to murder this guy you would also murder
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iPad Repair Experts for Any Issue
The iPad has become an essential device for many people, whether for work, entertainment, or communication. With its sleek design, powerful performance, and user-friendly interface, itâs no wonder that the iPad is a favorite among tech enthusiasts and casual users alike. However, like any device, iPads can experience technical issues, and when that happens, you need iPad repair experts who can diagnose and fix the problem quickly.
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3. Genuine Replacement Parts
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#iPad Screen Repair#macbook battery replacement#iPhone Screen Repair#hard drive recovery#calgary data recovery#Data recovery Calgary#macbook pro screen replacement
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Vox Ex Machina
Entre luzes quebradas e ruas molhadas, Tua figura se ergue, pura e rara. Nos becos de um futuro que sangra, Ăs o cĂłdigo que minha alma desarma.
Teus olhos, janelas de mel sintético, Guardam segredos de um mundo frenético. Cada piscada, uma quebra no sistema, Uma poesia que desafia qualquer esquema.
E teus lĂĄbios, rubis em pixel brilhante, Cantam melodias em tons vibrantes. SĂŁo chaves que abrem meu universo, Hackeiam minha mente em cada verso.
Tua pele reflete o brilho do neon, Um horizonte onde tudo Ă© ilusĂŁo. Tocas o caos e o transformas em arte, O futuro se curva Ă tua parte.
Ăs musa e mĂĄquina, sonho e pulsação, A revolução em carne e circuitação. Nas veias corre um amor tĂŁo elĂ©trico, Queimando meu peito num loop poĂ©tico.
Se o mundo ruir em metal e fumaça, Te seguirei na trilha que traças. Ăs o glitch que o destino nĂŁo esperava, O epicentro de tudo o que importava.
Sob o cĂ©u digital de neon crescente, Ăs meu futuro, meu presente. Em cada byte do meu coração, Ăs o sistema que rege minha paixĂŁo.
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đź ÂżSabĂas que los videojuegos son mĂĄs que destreza con un control en mano? đčïž Hoy vamos a adentrarnos en el fascinante mundo del Desarrollo y GestiĂłn de Videojuegos , una odisea que va mĂĄs allĂĄ del mero entretenimiento. ÂĄPrepĂĄrate, porque esto es como un 'boss fight' en nivel experto! - đ§ *Fase de ConceptualizaciĂłn:* Antes de que un videojuego cobre vida, primero debe nacer en la mente de alguien muy loco, un soñador que ve mundos donde otros ven cĂłdigo. AquĂ, la creatividad es el 'power-up' mĂĄs valioso. - âïž *Fase de Desarrollo:* Los desarrolladores son como magos, mezclando hechizos de programaciĂłn, diseño y sonido. Es mĂĄs que saber programar; es juntar las piezas de un rompecabezas mientras corres contra una marea de bugs y 'deadlines'. - đš *Diseño GrĂĄfico y Sonoro:* ÂżTe imaginas a Mario sin su icĂłnico It's-a me ? El diseño lleva a los juegos desde ser un buen pasatiempo a ser parte de nuestras vidas. AquĂ es donde un pixel puede valer mĂĄs que mil palabras. - đŒ *GestiĂłn y Marketing:* Lanzar un juego es como tirar un 'hadouken' en Street Fighter; tienes que saber cuĂĄndo y cĂłmo para no terminar contra las cuerdas. La gestiĂłn de equipos, presupuestos y estrategias de marketing son el verdadero 'endgame'. - đ *Feedback y Mejora Continua:* ÂżDLCs? ÂżParches? ÂżUpdates? Escuchar a la comunidad no es solo ser todo oĂdos, es llevar esos 'gameplays' a la mesa de diseño y decir: ÂĄChallenge accepted! Y aquĂ viene la sorpresa... đ€Ż Raras veces el desarrollo de un juego es un 'speedrun'. Es mĂĄs parecido a jugar en coop; necesitas comunicaciĂłn, coordinaciĂłn y, sobre todo, pasiĂłn compartida. đ La industria de los videojuegos es un portal a mundos infinitos y, al mismo tiempo, una arena que pone a prueba la destreza y capacidad de innovaciĂłn de sus creadores. Ahora dime, ÂżcuĂĄl es tu experiencia Ă©pica mĂĄs memorable en este universo paralelo de desarrollo de juegos? ÂżHas enfrentado un 'glitch' inesperado que al final te hizo subir de nivel? ÂżO acaso has encontrado ese 'easter egg' que te cambiĂł la perspectiva? ÂĄComparte tus 'gameplays' profesionales o etiqueta a ese 'player 2' que estarĂa mĂĄs que listo para unirse a esta partida en los comentarios! đź #DesarrolloDeVideojuegos #GestiĂłnDeProyectos #GameDev #InnovaciĂłn #Creatividad #MarketingGamer #CommunityManagement #GamingIndustry
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Some more missing tags for you! Love your work, sorry you're going through this. Only Good Things In Storr For You - Relationships:Â RC-5108/8843 | Corr Skirata/CC-5869 | Stone Characters:Â RC-5108/8843 | Corr Skirata, CC-5869 | Stone Additional Tags:Â Rarepair, Arrested, Coruscant Guards (Star Wars), Planet Coruscant (Star Wars), Hijinks & Shenanigans, Drinking, Handcuffs, Handcuffed Together, Deception, Double Cross, Implied Sexual Content, Crimes & Criminals, exchange treat Special Forces - Relationships:Â CC-1138 | Bacara/Glitch Characters:Â CC-1138 | Bacara, Glitch (Star Wars) Additional Tags:Â Fluff, The Force, The Force Ships It (Star Wars), That's Not How The Force Works (Star Wars), Planet Orto Plutonia (Star Wars), Planet Draay 2 (Star Wars), Concord Dawn dialect of Mandoâa (not canon), Panic Attacks Butt Fucking - Relationships:Â CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives/CC-1010 | Fox Characters:Â CC-1010 | Fox, CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives Additional Tags:Â Anonymous Sex, Hook-Up, Drinking, Beer, Smoking, Clove Cigarettes, Bigotry & Prejudice, mild slurs, CC-1010 | Fox is So Done, Fox is kind of an asshole, Heâs self-aware about it though, Coruscant Underworld (Star Wars), Bittersweet, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD And Do I Dream Again? - Relationships:Â CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo/CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives/CC-1010 | Fox Characters:Â CC-1010 | Fox, CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives, CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo Additional Tags:Â Time Travel, Surreal, Dreams and Nightmares, Canonical Character Death, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suicidal Thoughts, Depression, Grief/Mourning, Erections, piss mention, Gun Violence, Graphic Description of Corpses, Execution, Fratricide, Coruscant Guards (Star Wars), No Clone Trooper Inhibitor Chips (Star Wars), No Sith Mind-Fuckery, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hopeful Ending, Threesome - M/M/M, Treat
tysm đ„°đ„°đ„°
I think thatâs all of them! if anyone sees a fic of mine with only one additional tag, lmk and iâll update it too.
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"Me encuentro perdido en el camino, y me comunico con estos, esto no alienta el trabajo de llevar almas al matadero cuando se trata de cĂłmo los secretos de la lectura tienen un proceso, y esto es mĂĄs excesivo que el firmware desviĂĄndose en esos paisajes en lugar del intercambio de los chicos. Finalmente, es para crear imĂĄgenes de relaciones adyacentes de la identidad y reflejar todo, lo retiramos y inyectamos tu ID, evitando que la difusiĂłn que crea el momento se pierda, y pensando en cĂłmo los datos se distorsionan finalmente, enseña que el nĂșcleo del pensamiento es mĂĄs que eso. Los Lemurianos son espirituales importantes. Todos tienen limitaciones. ÂżSe oculta el caleidoscopio del espĂritu de la lujuria y el hambre? Se mantiene allĂ. Emociones que valen la pena que deseas. Deficiencias de los liposomas. Sospechas como Ăłrganos. Chamanes. El glitch de las costumbres de lo que diseminas coincide. DispersiĂłn de belleza que deshabilita la curaciĂłn. El cuerpo en la zona espiritual crea el virus de perros muertos. AsĂ que siempre creamos odio fragmentado. InvestigaciĂłn. Los libros del cosmos. EnergĂa de la red. Nos falta la imitaciĂłn digital en este fallo. Quieren ocultar la revelaciĂłn en el negocio. Saltan a lo artificial en la existencia de la Tierra, intentando el anĂĄlisis espiritual. Nuestras diversas fallas estĂĄn siendo contrarrestadas adecuadamente por la teorĂa. ComprensiĂłn sobre el sistema que estĂĄ vivo. El auto glitching con el otro. El despertar del lenguaje se convierte en un mecanismo de confianza y promociĂłn. Ciegos evolucionando en masa en una era de descripciones hipermĂłviles y engaños. El lenguaje de Janus devastĂł todo. CĂ©lulas. El firmware se enfoca en el mundo inmĂłvil de los perros. Pero el orden de una perspectiva efectiva de cĂłmo la existencia crea la espiritualidad. La fisiologĂa que vives es una lĂnea paralela que eleva algo en el cuerpo, incluso si cometĂ un error y eres diverso y poĂ©tico como un poeta de cables, y lo que hemos capturado como la realidad es una invitaciĂłn. Esta mezcla ejecutada de autodestrucciĂłn de arte celular de celdas silenciosas es tambiĂ©n karma, cosmologĂa y el uso de la carne. La mente sĂłlida del espejo del cuerpo en el cerebro de un hombre, potencial emociĂłn de cambios catastrĂłficos en un mundo de destrucciĂłn por dios. Me fortalecĂ porque la era universitaria estaba allĂ, enfriando la flor de la pantalla. Siempre el lenguaje estĂĄ vivo. Termina a los residentes. La tragedia de hackeabilidad. AdquisiciĂłn y filosofĂa son cĂłsmicas. El cuerpo de la herramienta de la conciencia para tener conciencia. GuiĂłn. La finitud inestable del pensamiento. Refuerzo gay. La inversiĂłn del drogadicto creado se encuentra en algĂșn lugar. MĂĄquina. Silente. Instrumento. Adyacente. Es psicolĂłgico para los humanos mientras aumenta lingĂŒĂsticamente la acciĂłn paralela y esculpe la libertad. La creaciĂłn de trucos de armonĂa alrededor del cuerpo es profunda, y corres como un corredor marrĂłn. La formaciĂłn de reflujos es cĂłmo navegar por la existencia. La muerte por gravedad es el objetivo. Eres humano, soy un Ăłrgano. Posthumano en lugar de colapsar factores en lugar de que lo espiritual sea simplemente mundano y real, fornicaciĂłn con la fuerza. Luego, la necesidad de transformar el pensamiento. SecciĂłn de la realidad. El proceso es que el cuerpo gotea sin desgarrarse. El colapso desde la normalidad es cuĂĄnto encajamos en nuestro universo y cĂłmo somos el modo antĂgeno. La necesidad distintiva de mĂĄquinas. Esta interacciĂłn desde herramientas digitales mejorarĂĄ, pero el movimiento del glitch, cuando es el espacio de bĂșsqueda de descripciones del cuerpo que es una herramienta espiritual, es profundo. La cantidad de presiĂłn existencial que intenta la reescritura del cerebro de lenguaje de mĂĄquina. Todos nosotros estamos alienados por el hecho de que los analfabetos dentro de ese rango singular pueden hacerlo por las mĂĄquinas." - Kenji Siratori, CronotopĂa Desatada
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[A VIDEO IS UPLOADED DATED 7/3/23 AT 12:00 PM The video centers on a brightly colored bizarre looking pokemon that is easily 20 feet tall. This is clearly up close camera footage of the event, taking through a handheld device. The camera is shaky, but it is close enough that the creature can be seen in its entirety from the ground. The 3TrainerPoke$ has climbed up the side of a building. And is peering in through one of the windows.
From off camera, the voice of a jovial sounding, slightly unhinged man can be heard calling to the pokemon. This appears to be Orion, a pokemon researcher who seems to have no concept of fear. He is calling to the giant pokemon in a singsong voice.
Orion- Here baby baby baby. Come eat. I've got some berries for you.
The creature's head seems to turn slowly. From the other side of the video feed, Simon's voice can be heard giving directions.
Simon- Dear Arc, it's up a building already?
The giant pokemon turns its massive head away from the window it had been attempting to peer into. It beats its wings violently as it jumps back down to the street.
The camera footage shakes violently, almost feeling like the start of an earthquake. It starts to approach, looking curious, almost playful as it moves its void like head from side to side.
Simon- Ok. You've got its attention. Now, be ready to back off. You just want to get its attention, not lose a limb.
Orion backs up very slowly. He holds out a hand as he continues to speak to it in a soothing, almost affectionate tone. He has left a small armful of berries on the ground before him.
Orion- That's right baby. All those berries are for you. Go ahead and eat.
The 3trainerpoke$ takes a few slow, short, lumbering steps forward. Up close it is clear that this pokemon likely cannot move very fast. It looks stressed, uncertain. But it moves to eat the berries, seeming for a moment almost calmed by Orion's presence.
Simon- Ok, right this is good. Now maybe if you could lure it out of the city. Get it away from people to mitigate the damage itâŠ
He trails off when he sees the Pokemon shift abruptly. It raises its head, and it's feathers suddenly sharpen, bright violet tinged venom suddenly oozing from their points. It flaps its great wings and a barrage of poisoned barbs fly towards Orion. Orion drops to the ground immediately, rolls to avoid the strike, and turns to dash out of the city. He is still calling to it.
Orion- Here baby baby baby!
The 3TrainerPoke$ tilts its head, curiously. As if it has no idea why the little creature it just attacked is running away.
Is it angry? Or is it playing? After a few steps it halts and seems to suck in a great breath of air, before blowing out a flurry of caustic bubbles that crash down upon Orion.
It leaves a dent in the pavement. It's clear that while the pokemon is slow its attacks are EXCEEDINGLY powerful.
Simon- Orion you NEED to get our of there. I can't tell if it's trying to play with you or just destroy you, but either way, this is getting way too dangerous. We need another approach to this!
While Orion manages to dodge the majority of the bubbles, it is clear that at least one has struck him, as the camera pitches wildly. As this happens another figure arrives at the scene. A green haired Glitch City denizen named RhĆ·s. They give a friendly wave as a greeting.
RhĆ·s- Hey Simon! I heard you needed backup?
Orion- Yeah, we definitely need backup! Baby is probably playing, but we kinda need to get it away from the city and subdued
Simon- Yes. We can use all the help we can get! We just need to get it away from as many people as possible!
The 3TrainerPoke$ bristles again. It's feathers all seem to move at once in a rippling pattern as it assesses the newcomer. It tilts its giant head.
And then it flaps its wings again. It emits another high pitched click as it darts away from the two of them, back towards the city center. In its wake there is a crackling sound.
Simon- No, no no Orion get back it's-!!
The video file corrupts here and is over taken by static. No more footage could be retrieved from this file
END OF VIDEO FEED]
Orion is okay. Thankfully. But this is what we're up against right now. I'm blind to what's happening for now. Trying to establish connection again. I hope he is ok.
@orionadventure Hold out while I get this figured out, yeah? I want to ensure there is still someone on the other side when I get this connection stabilized again.
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The Last Prime
Hold on to your hubcaps; this is a long one, as it covers the whole of "Predacons Rising". (I'm willing to repost it as shorter chunks, if that's more to everyone's liking. It's also on AO3 here.)
As usual, inspiration credits to @justawannabearchaeologist's "TFP Wheeljack in TFA" series. For the ending, I am also indebted to @novafire-is-thinking's ongoing analysis series "Who is TFP Optimus?" Both are highly recommended.
Here goes...
---
âWe have endured many hardships and countless battles,â Optimus Prime declaimed, âbut at last our home planet has been restored. We would not be standing on Cybertronian soil were it not for the valiant efforts of both those assembled here â including one from far away,â his optics rested on Glitch, who blushed and dropped her gaze to the ground; she hadnât really done all that much, and certainly no more than her duty demanded, âand our absent comrades. Ratchet, who remains on Earth to safeguard our human friends,â Arcee laid a sisterly servo on Glitchâs shoulder, aware that the young medibot missed her friend and colleague, and was more than a little daunted by the prospect of filling his role, âand Cliffjumper, who made the ultimate sacrifice.â It was Glitchâs turn to put a discreet arm around âCee, Cliffjumperâs partner. She knew his death had inflicted a wound on her comrade that would never fully heal.
âBut on this day,â Prime continued, âat the dawn of a new era, we gather to bestow a special honour, one earned by Bumblebee through his bravery and devotion to the cause of peace, long before he rid the universe of the scourge of the Decepticon warmonger.â We hope, Glitch caught herself thinking. Megatrons, in her experience, were pretty hard to kill. âIn the company of your fellow Autobots, in the presence of our creator Primus, the living core of our planet, and by the authority vested in me by the Matrix of Leadership,â Prime raised the Star Sabre, a relic of the ancient Primes Glitch had nicknamed AndĂșril, âBumblebee,â AndĂșril touched Bumblebeeâs left shoulder, then his right, as he knelt before his leader, âarise, a Warrior.â
As Bumblebee stood up, the rest of the team clustered around to congratulate him, even Glitch, though she was still a bit hazy on why the ceremony was such a big deal â or necessary at all. But then, her Cybertron had been officially at peace since before she came online â helium, before her CO came online â and its class system wasnât as rigidly defined as that one had been before the Autobot-Decepticon war. While Elite Guard positions were very much sought-after by a lot of young âbots, they were, theoretically, open to anybot. And sheâd never wanted one. She was more than happy to be a field-tech, a healer and protector, not a destroyer.
Unlike, say, Wheeljack. âLetâs get this party started!â The Wrecker lived up to his unitâs name, triggering explosives he must have planted beforehand in a statue of Megatron. Glitch had to admit to a certain satisfaction as the stone warlord was deconstructed joint by joint, but did Wheeljack have to make such a mess of everything?
Prime allowed them a few cycles of jubilation before speaking again. âI am sorry to interrupt your celebration.â
âHere it comes,â âCee remarked.
âPrimes never party,â Bulkhead added.
âYou might be surprised,â Glitch murmured, thinking of another red and blue mech, who had a hidden talent for the guitar.
âBut I must take my leave of you,â Prime carried on. So soon? Prime had fought at least as long and hard as anybot there, and more so than most. He deserved to enjoy some peace, at least for a while.
âSir, may I ask why?â Ultra Magnus enquired.
âThough Cybertron is once again able to support life,â Prime began, âour planet is currently incapable of generating new lives.â
âLet me guess,â Glitch interrupted him. âWe need the Allspark. I wondered when that box of tricks would enter the picture. And itâs probably safely out in deep space, where almost nobody can find it.â
âThat is correct.â Prime wasnât as surprised that sheâd second-guessed him as might be expected. He knew how similar their realities were, in some ways. âI assume yours was hidden for the same reason.â
She hummed in assent. âCooled the war down a treat, especially when Megatron buzzed off to look for it. And before anyone asks, we post-war âbots received our sparks from Vector Sigma.â She was aware that the ancient computer had a counterpart in that reality, but clearly it didnât have that particular functionality. Moreâs the pity.
Bumblebee was all for retrieving the Allspark as a whole team, but Prime pointed out that they couldnât leave Cybertron vulnerable to Decepticon remnants. He assigned Ultra Magnus to organise patrols and hunt down Starscream and Shockwave, and Bulkhead to start the rebuilding of the wrecked planet, prioritising a landing field for other Cybertronians who might come home. Only Wheeljack would go with Prime; he was one of their best pilots, and had wandered the galaxy for aeons before finding his way to Earth and the team. Glitch pulled him aside for a quick word as the party broke up, knowing better than to argue with Prime over non-medical matters. (Wheeljack was also much closer to her in height; sometimes she practically had to shout to get Primeâs attention.)
âPromise me youâll look out for each other,â she said. âThe Allspark may be the source of your life, but if my versionâs anything to go by, for individual âbots itâs trouble with a capital T, R, O, U, B, L and E.â
âIt canât be that bad â can it?â At least Wheeljack was taking her semi-seriously.
âLet me put it this way. My Allspark nearly flattened the âbots it chose as its protectors, then almost got them killed again when Megatron found them. They were missing, presumed dead, for half a century.â A very long half-century for Glitch, who had had two close friends on that crew. Including her now-partner and boyfriend. âMegatron was in stasis and pieces all that time. Starscream tried to use it to level Detroit; it offlined Optimus trying to get rid of Screamer, then revived him. Its power also revived Megatronâs head and allowed him to create the Dinobots and Soundwave before putting him back together again. When he got his servos on it, Optimus had to disperse it to avoid disastrophe, and the fragments are still causing all kinds of chaos. Everything from haywire assembly lines to an immortal Starscream. And its reassembly killed Prowl. Shall I go on?â She could, for quite some time.
âNo, thatâs enough. Iâll have Optimusâ back out there, I promise, and we both know heâll have mine.â Prime would always put his soldiersâ and friendsâ lives first. Then something Glitch had said struck Wheeljack afresh. âYour Starscreamâs immortal? I thought ours was a nuisance, butâŠâ
âHe certainly used to be. Most inconvenient in some ways, though I for one donât actually want him dead. Jazz thinks he saw the fragment keeping him alive being pulled out when he and Prowl were reassembling the Allspark, but his shell was never found. And when it comes to that âbot â donât count him as offline until you see the body, and even then you can still be wrong. Come to think of it, that applies to Megatron, too.â
âNot ours, I hope. Anyway, Iâd better get going. Look after Magnus and Bulkhead for me.â
âWilco.â The Wrecker and the field-tech went their separate ways, the latter hurrying to the ex-Decepticon warship the team was using as a base, suddenly dying to get to work.
***
âWhoa, whoa, whoa! Howâre you gonna attach the cladding when the framing structureâs incomplete, huh?â Bulkheadâs voice, followed by a series of metallic clangs and clatters that sounded like something out of a slapstick comedy, must have carried for hics as Arcee and Glitch drove to the building site that was meant to be an air traffic control tower.
âLabour issues?â âCee asked as she transformed beside her old friend. With the Autobots rotating between patrols and their individual duties, Bulkhead was having to work with a crew of Vehicon volunteers whose enthusiasm clearly outstripped their skills.
The answer was self-evident, so Bulkhead changed the subject. âAny news of our fugitives?â
âJust signs of recent scavenging in former Decepticon installations.â
âAnd the warship canât detect their life signals?â Bulkhead looked to Glitch, now the teamâs only tech âexpertâ on-planet, who had been making friends with the Nemesis ever since Megatronâs defeat.
âShielded,â she answered briefly. âWorking on it. Needed to spin my wheels, though, and get a vent of fresh â whoa!â Amply demonstrating why some of her teammates affectionately called her âthe little monkeyâ when they thought she wasnât listening, she scrambled up the side of the half-built tower to where part of the frame was likely to give way. A few nanokliksâ work with her built-in blowtorch, and the problem was solved. She all but jumped back down, eager to be on solid ground again, and rejoined her friends.
âNice one,â Bulkhead said, appraising her patch job with a professional optic. âHowâd you spot that?â
âIâve done my share of construction work, back in Detroit.â She no longer said âback homeâ; she had three homes in two universes. (The othersâ Cybertron wasnât one of them, though â yet.) âUrban combat tends to get messy, and itâs only right that we should help fix the damage afterwards. Good PR, too. One learns to see problems before they become serious.â Especially if, like her, one had a talent for pattern-recognition â even at the expense of other abilities, such as face-recognition. âBy the way â maybe cut the Vehicons a bit more slack. Not everybot has your expertise.â Bulkhead had been a labourer before the war, so-called âlow casteâ, protoformed for construction. She hoped sheâd found a positive spin to put on that.
Either she had, or heâd hidden his reaction well. âIâm trying, but itâs not easy. If a mistake can be made, theyâve probably made it, even with the basic stuff. I know they can learn, but â honestly, Iâd rather have a crew of Constructicons than these guys.â
âScrapper would definitely help,â Glitch agreed, thinking of the Constructicons back in her universe. ââSpecially if Snarl lent a servo as well. Maybe Mixmaster, if we could get hold of enough decent motor oil. Not Dirtboss, though. Weâd have an Energon racket on our servos before we knew where we were.â She was partway through describing the diminutive Decepticonâs attempt to control Detroitâs oil supply when Bumblebee called her comm. âGlitch, we need you back here now. Magnus is hurt, badly. Iâm sending a groundbridge.â Stars, that sounded serious. Oh well. That was what sheâd signed up for.
It was serious, as even a preliminary scan made abundantly clear once sheâd reached the Nemesis med-bay, where Magnus was already on her repair table. âBlimey, thereâs a lot of internal damage here. Most of it pretty bad. Predacon? New one, Iâd say.â
âYeah, two of âem. Howâd you know?â Smokescreen had been on patrol with Ultra Magnus, and was still hovering by his commanderâs side, not quite blocking her light. Had Magnus been hurt trying to protect him?
âI do have optics. Scorching, impact trauma and denta and claw marks add up to Predacon, but the claw spacing and synth shape and size donât match Predaking. I donât suppose you got a good look at their alt-modes?â she asked out of vague curiosity, most of her processor focused on her patient.
âAnother dragon and one kinda like a big winged cyber-cat. A griffin, I think itâs called on Earth.â
âWeâll have to find them, and quickly,â Bumblebee put in, having just returned from updating Arcee and Bulkhead on the situation. âHowâs Magnus?â
âNot good. I can stabilise him, for now, but we need another medic if heâs ever going to recover fully. Call Ratchet in, or let Knock Out out. In or out, I donât care, just find someone better than me.â She had already begun to fix Magnusâ most severe injuries, but only her centuries of training kept her servos steady. Sheâd been qualified for less than two stellar-cycles, and had spent rather less time than that in that universe. And Magnusâ wounds were worse than she felt she could handle alone. âIn the meantime, clear out and let me deal with this mess.â
Bumblebee and Smokescreen obeyed without a word, and must have chosen Option A. A short while later, Ratchet barged in, medical kit in servo. The two medibots worked side by side, speaking only when necessary, until Magnus was out of danger and heading towards recovery.
âHeâll be all right,â Glitch confirmed, more for her own benefit than for Ratchetâs. âThanks for coming at such short notice, and â sorry, for calling you in. I suppose I panicked.â Her first case as the teamâs primary medic, and sheâd dragged Ratchet out of his semi-retirement to help her. Not a good start.
Ratchetâs servo entirely covered hers. âYou did the right thing.â Sheâd seldom heard such gentleness from either Ratchet, that one or her mentor back in Detroit. âYou have talent, but a case like this calls for experience you simply havenât had time to acquire yet. Trying to handle it yourself would have been the height of foolishness.â He smiled down at his junior colleague. âBy the way, you did a good job on Smokescreen during the battle. And Optimus, while I was â elsewhere.â Specifically, aboard that very ship and in Decepticon servos. âThank you for that.â
Glitch blushed in acknowledgement and gratitude. âJust doing my duty. Practically had to blackmail Prime onto the repair table, though. Is he always like that, or was he just worried about you?â
âOh, heâs been that way as long as Iâve known him, and still has the temerity to lecture me about my Energon intake.â Rightly so. On at least one occasion, Glitch had had to resort to sleight of servo to make sure Ratchet was properly fuelled. He changed the subject with almost unbecoming haste. âOut of interest, how are you getting on with the shipâs systems?â
âMaking progress, but Soundwave locked all the data storage up tight. And Iâm still tripping a lot of alarm codes. Managed to detach them from the actual alarms, though.â
âNot a moment too soon.â Bumblebee had put his head around the door again. âIf either of you can spare some time, weâre having a strategy meeting on the bridge.â
âGo,â Ratchet said. âIâll stay with Magnus.â
âHowâs the commander?â Smokescreen demanded the moment he saw her. He was clearly still beating himself up for letting Magnus be injured.
âWith time, and rest, heâll make a full recovery.â Everybot else visibly relaxed at that. Theyâd probably have preferred to hold the meeting in med-bay, keeping an optic on the patient and making sure both medics were included, but had respected her preference for peace, quiet and privacy.
As it turned out, the meeting was almost over. Their obvious priority was tracking down the new Predacons, no doubt cloned by the still-elusive Shockwave. Glitch would love to know how heâd managed that in the absence of the Allspark; in her universe, Starscreamâs various clones and the Lugnuts Supreme had had to be brought online with tiny Allspark fragments. But the other Starscream had cloned himself as well, without any of that. InterestingâŠ
A question for later, though. Bumblebee had a couple of ideas for places to start looking, and Glitch had something important to say.
âIâm coming with you. Ratchet can hold the fort here; stars know heâs had practice. And given what happened earlier, you may well need a medic soon.â
âActually, I was hoping youâd come along,â Bumblebee said. âIâve a feeling the first person I want to ask could already do with your expertise.â Such as it was.
His âfeelingâ was borne out by the fresh Energon trail the scout soon found and followed to its source â Predaking. The wounded dragon-Predacon did not look happy to see them, and the sentiment was mutual; Arcee, Bulkhead and Smokescreen primed their weapons and Glitch readied her shields as Predaking prepared to flame them all, but Bumblebee chose a very different way to deal with the situation. Negotiation. He handled Predaking magnificently, first bluffing him into standing down with a fake Immobiliser, then politely enquiring about the new Predacons. Unfortunately, Predaking claimed to have no knowledge of them, and Glitch for one believed him. As the others started to leave the mighty warrior to brood over the remains of his forebears in peace, though, she looked up from her medical scanner, indicated the site of his still-leaking wound and asked, âMay I?â
Predaking just looked bemused, so she explained herself a little further. âIâm a medic, and youâre hurt. With your permission, Iâd like to change that latter state of affairs.â
Predaking studied her for a long moment. âYou wear the mark of the accursed Autobots, but you do not smell like them, or like any other Cybertronian. You are different.â
âToo right I am. Iâm from another universe, but I have some experience treating Cybertronians of this one. You all bleed the same â Predacon, Autobot, Decepticon or neutral.â She forced herself to meet Predakingâs burning yellow optics. âAnd believe me, if thereâd been a way to save the other clones both from the Wreckers and from slavery to Megatron, Iâd have done so. What happened was a tragedy, and I give you my word of honour, it will not be repeated on my watch.â
âYou speak truth,â Predaking conceded. âAs did the other medic, Ratchet, who may have been the first person to show me and my kind true respect. Very well.â He transformed back into his dragon-form, twisting around to display a long cut along one side, awkward to reach, but relatively simple to repair. She fixed it in a matter of nanokliks â it was sparklingâs play after treating Ultra Magnus â and, once sheâd found a fuel line, injected a vial of Energon to replace that which heâd lost, before stepping back into his field of vision and bowing. âUntil we meet again, Your Highness.â
âShould that prove necessary, little medic.â She chose not to be offended by that as she turned, transformed and raced away after the others.
She soon caught up with them on the way to Darkmount, Megatronâs former citadel, where Knock Out had apparently claimed they could find a list of Shockwaveâs old labs. A modicum of hacking â Glitch was getting used to breaking âCon cyphers â proved the Decepticon CMO right.
âWell, whaddaya know,â Bumblebee said as Smokescreen messed around on Megatronâs throne and Bulkhead rebuked him. âKnock Out actually shot straight for once.â
âWhatâd you have to do, scuff his finish?â Arcee asked. Knock Out was notoriously, ridiculously vain, in contrast to Glitch, who was proud of her scratched servos.
âClose. Now, letâs download the data and get outta here.â Glitch was way ahead of him; sheâd set the console up to copy the decrypted files straight to a transfer drive the moment she broke the cypher. Which was just as well; a flier, too small and fast to be Predaking, the wrong shape to be Prime, was headed straight for Darkmount. Nanokliks later, one of the last âbots any of the party had expected to see landed right in front of them. He was taller and bulkier than he had been just days before, and his optics and biolights shone purple rather than red, but he was recognisably Megatron.
Until he spoke. Whoever was using King âConâs voicebox, it probably wasnât its original owner. Megatron liked overdone rhetoric, but âminions of the Primeâ was a bit much even for him. And âhisâ voice had extra harmonics that sent a shiver down Glitchâs backstrut as she readied her combat-capable tools. Why was she so tired all of a sudden?
Soon enough, the situation was made clearer. Megatron wasnât in control of his body â Unicron was. The Chaos Bringer. Widely regarded as a myth in Glitchâs universe; very real in that one. Wait âtil I tell Bee about this, she thought drowsily and almost nonsensically.
Somehow, she managed to keep pace with the rest of the team as they ducked and dodged Unicronâs fire, but they were clearly outmatched, and evac via groundbridge would require them to get away from their opponent. Youâve been around me too long, she thought hazily as Bumblebee led them, in vehicle mode, between Megatronâs peds, off a ledge and through a tunnel excavated by his blaster. That was the kind of stunt she usually pulled.
They raced through the abandoned corridors of Darkmount until âCee called a halt, not a moment too soon. Ahead of them, the floor gave way to what looked like a deep pool of molten slag.
âWhat in blazes is that?â Glitch asked.
âA smelting pit,â Bulkhead told her, clearly not wanting to go into detail.
âFor once, I donât want to know.â Mostly because she could guess. All too easily.
Bumblebee barely had time to call for a groundbridge before a lilac explosion behind them announced Unicron-Megatronâs proximity â and threw them all into the air. Bumblebee and Glitch landed on solid ground, but the others ended up hanging over the smelting pit, a chain of terrified âbots.
As Bulkhead fought to keep Arcee and Smokescreen from fiery oblivion, Unicron landed Megatron behind him, shaping a pair of hook-like weapons for himself out of lavender light. While Bumblebee held his attention, Glitch climbed up his back, grateful for once for her small stature, and transformed her right servo into a laser scalpel, intending to sever the electrical connection between his right arm and his CPU. But either her fatigue-addled processor had miscalculated, or Unicronâs upgrades had changed Megatronâs internal structure. Where she expected a shower of sparks, deep purple liquid welled from the incision. Dark Energon, she just had time to realise before everything went black.
***
âWhatâre we supposed to call him, huh? Megacron? Unitron?â
âReally? Thatâs your biggest issue right now?â The familiar sound of Smokescreen and Arcee bickering greeted Glitch as she came back online. Somehow, theyâd survived and returned to their mobile base.
âMegacron sounds better,â she put in, âbut Unitron emphasises the fact that itâs Unicron driving the bus, so to speak. Either would work.â
âYouâre awake.â Ratchet sounded more than a little relieved â to someone who knew him well. âHow do you feel?â
âA little more stasis wouldnât hurt, but all systems are nominal.â Sheâd run a self-diagnostic the nanoklik she returned to consciousness. âWhat happened?â
âIt appears you are hypersensitive to Dark Energon. Simply being in Unicronâs presence may have been enough to weaken you, and exposure to that which flows through Megatronâs system caused almost immediate stasis. Youâre lucky to be in such good shape after a fall like that, by the way.â
âIâm tougher than I look. And I did feel tired pretty much as soon as Unitron showed up â as though Iâd just pulled three shifts in a row.â Her record was four. Not an experience she planned to repeat. âHow did we get back here?â
âRatchet opened a groundbridge above the smelting pit,â Smokescreen answered. âJust as the floor gave way under Bulkhead. Bee scooped you up and jumped right into it.â
âBet that annoyed Megacron.â As the others moved on to debate their next move, and tried to contact Prime and Wheeljack, Glitch called up the results of a scan sheâd made during the battle with Unitron â and a couple of other files. Fascinating⊠âRatchet, would you mind providing a second opinion on something?â
âNot at all.â As Glitch sat up on a makeshift repair table that had been set up on the warshipâs bridge, the Autobotsâ current HQ, Ratchet seated himself beside her, leaning down to examine her datapad. âWhat am I looking at?â
âMegatronâs sparkbeat, recorded during his last physical exam. Before you ask, I needed access to the medical files in case any of the Vehicons were injured, and if Knock Out wanted to anonymise these data properly, he probably shouldnât have called the folder âBig Mâ.â Ratchet conceded the point with a shred of a laugh. She switched to another file. âThis is Unicronâs sparkbeat, pulled from your records of his last awakening. And this is a scan of the being currently walking around in Megatronâs upgraded shell. What do you make of it?â
âIt looks as though â Unicronâs sparkbeat has been superimposed onto Megatronâs, somehow.â
âThatâs what I thought. I think Megatronâs still alive in there. Maybe he couldnât join with the Allspark because of Dark Energon shenanigans. Unicronâs in control for now, but Megatronâs pulled a Master at least once before. If we can reach him â maybe heâll do it again.â
âPulled a Master?â Glitch really had to stop making references the others wouldnât get.
âDoctor Who. The Masterâs another renegade Time Lord, Megatron to the Doctorâs Optimus, if you like. He wants to conquer the universe, not see or protect it, but occasionally he refuels more than his system can handle and has to team up with the Doctor to save his own circuits.â
âI see what youâre driving at. It might be worth a shot, but donât pin all your hopes on that. Megatron has a strong will, but Unicron is a god.â
âAnd human mythologyâs full of gods defeating each other, or being beaten or tricked by mortals. But Iâll keep all my options open.â Seeing that the others had stopped trying to contact the away team, she and Ratchet headed over to join them. âAny luck?â
âNo response. Maybe they heard us and canât transmit for some reason; maybe weâre on our own. Either way, we need to figure out why Unicronâs here.â
âAnd what he wants.â Bumblebee finished Arceeâs sentence.
âTo destroy the spark of his arch-enemy, Primus.â Ratchet stated what should have been obvious.
âBut thatâs the core of our planet!â Yes, Smokescreen, we know.
As âCee complained that the situation was unfair, and Ratchet responded in typically dramatic fashion, Glitch headed over to another console and resumed one of her projects. She had an inkling it, and the ship itself, would be needed very soon.
âIn other words, lifeâs not fair,â she said from beneath the console when Ratchet had finished. âAll the more reason to make our own fairness.â Hm. That gave her another, trivial idea.
***
âCrikey OâReilly!â (Maybe Glitch had spent a little too long researching Earth culture.) âThat looks like some seriously bad mojo.â (And a shade too long around Jazz, if that were possible.) Armed with the knowledge that Megatron was in some way still alive, the Autobots had just started tracking down his exact location â only to see an energy spike at the same position. Under the circumstances, probably a type of energy Glitch had encountered for the first time earlier that day, but knew about from the othersâ stories. Dark Energon. At the Predacon burial ground. That and Unicronâs presence couldnât add up to anything good.
Specifically, the most likely summation was an army of reanimated Predacon shells (why not more modern Cybertronians? Because they were more accessible, or more powerful?), heading for the Well of All Sparks to undo all the Autobotsâ hard work.
âSo what do we do?â Bulkhead asked.
âWe put ourselves between Unicronâs army and the Well.â Bumblebeeâs strategy was simple and sound. They couldnât afford to wait for Prime, Wheeljack and the Allspark; they had to act, and the warship was their greatest asset.
âGlitch, youâve been working on this ship since we took it over,â the newly minted warrior said to the field-tech. She had, especially in the previous few hours. It was better than worrying about the away team, or getting in Ratchetâs way as he monitored Ultra Magnus. âThink you can pilot it?â
âHeâs a bit bigger than Moth, and I might have to stand on something to reach the controls, but a shipâs a ship. Iâm not touching the weapons, though.â In her reality, no self-respecting Autobot used such things if they could help it.
âI wouldnât ask you to. Bulkhead, can you be her co-pilot and main gunner?â And ready to take over in the event of further Dark Energon exposure, he carefully didnât say.
ââCon engineering. User-friendly, right?â Particularly when an Autobot had spent days refining the controls â and adding in a few of her own.
Once Ratchet and Ultra Magnus had been transported to safety on the surface, the remaining âbots were soon on their way to intercept Unicronâs horde. Glitch had forgotten how much she enjoyed piloting. She was usually scared of heights, but flying a ship she trusted was fine. It didnât make much sense, but that was often the way with her anxiety. She might have been a microgram rusty, though.
âWhoa, easy!â Bulkhead reached for the controls as she banked to port a little too sharply, sending crewmembers and loose objects sliding across the deck. âYouâre flying a warship, not a cruiser.â
âSorry.â She levelled out, never taking her optics from the instruments in front of her.
âPrimary fusion cannons, null-rays, ion blasters â everything we need to stand a fighting chance against Unicronâs army.â Bumblebee listed off the shipâs complement of death-bringers. Glitch wondered idly what had become of the stasis ray she had seen mentioned in the teamâs files. That was much more to her liking. Non-lethal, non-destructive and reversible.
âShould be able to buy a fair amount of time for the others to get here,â she remarked to Bulkhead as Arcee complimented Bumblebee on his leadership skills. âBefore our circuits get fried.â
âAh, câmon! Whereâs that famous optimism?â
âIt opted out when I saw the scale of our problem. If Prime and Wheeljack donât show up in time, the odds of our survival are slim indeed. I canât calculate the probability that they will, and even if they do weâll still be outnumbered â but I do like those odds.â
âI guess we can only try,â Bulkhead just had time to say before the most annoying person on the planet arrived on the bridge.
âAutobots!â Starscream, and a squad of Vehicons, levelled missiles and blasters at the crew. âSurrender this warship!â Everyone but Glitch turned to face down the intruders â then stopped short, for reasons she only understood when Screamer boasted that he had the Immobiliser, a device that caused instant, lasting stasis-lock.
âAnd in case youâre wondering, Smokescreen is in no position to come to your rescue.â Glitch could see Knock Out reflected in the viewport in front of her, wearing Smokescreenâs phase shifter. The young âbot had been fetching the Immobiliser and another relic, the Polarity Gauntlet, from the shipâs vaults; he must have been intercepted on the way back.
âClimb down and step away from the console,â Starscream commanded her, âor Iâll freeze you and simply drag you away.â Or, more likely, get one of the Vehicons to move her.
âEither use that thing or put it down,â she countered, digits still flying over the controls. âWaving that glowstick of destiny around just makes you look even more like an idiot.â Starscream wasnât an idiot, she knew, but that was far from obvious. âBut if you do use it and miss, youâre likely to hit this console and drop us all out of the sky. And if your aim is good enough,â she activated one of her custom settings, âgood luck flying this ship with the isomorphic lock active.â
âIsomorphic lock?â the bewildered Decepticon asked.
âUser recognition system I just finished installing. The controls will only respond to designated pilots. And I couldnât add you or anyone else to the list and fly at the same time, even if you forced me.â
âAh, Screamy wonât use the glowstick on any of us,â Bulkhead said from where the Vehicons had herded the other Autobots into the centre of a circle of âCons. âHe needs us if heâs gonna stand any chance of surviving Unicron.â
âYou misunderstand,â Starscream told him, Glitch forgotten for the moment. âI do not intend to use this warship for battle, but for quickly getting as far away as possible from this doomed planet.â Someone was jumping to conclusions.
âEarth would be nice,â Knock Out commented, ânow that Unicron no longer seems to be calling it home.â That particular Decepticon did seem to have a soft spot for that world, or at least its cars.
âShut up!â Starscream lived up to the second half of his name. âNow, deactivate that lock and move away from those controls, Twitch,â the nameâs Glitch, âor get stiff.â
âThereâs just one thing youâve overlooked.â What was Bumblebee playing at? Oh well; at least he might have spared Glitch another round of trying to outsmart Megatronâs most cunning lieutenant. âThat device youâre holding? Not the Immobiliser.â
In the viewport, Glitch saw Starscream take a moment too long to figure out whether or not the warrior was bluffing. In that moment, the Autobots counterattacked, taking down the Vehicons within nanokliks. Starscream lunged for Bumblebee, and somehow got the upper servo almost as quickly. âI will silence you forever!â
No! She turned, magnets and EMP generator sliding into place â just in time to see a flawless claw-tipped servo phase through the Seekerâs chest, take the Immobiliser and belt him into stasis with it.
âNow will you believe Iâm joining the winning team?â Knock Out asked, still holding the remains of the broken relic.
âKnock Out! We needed that!â Ratchetâs common complaint was as good as a âyesâ from Bumblebee.
âWait â it â really was the Immobiliser?â
âGood riddance, if you ask me.â Glitch turned back to her console, but not before giving Knock Out a friendly smile. She rather liked the other medic, despite herself (and hated the idea of putting anybot in permanent stasis-lock). âAnd welcome to the team.â
***
âAre we there yet?â Smokescreen asked as he, Arcee and Knock Out returned from locking Starscream up. (And, owing to the deployment of Glitchâs best scraplet eyes, checking him over.)
âWeâre right on schedule,â Bulkhead replied.
âAnd so is Unicron,â Bumblebee added.
âLetâs get his attention, then,â Glitch said, before sending the ship into a steep dive, and Knock Out skidding across the deck, the moment the gunners were in position.
Just one strafing run was enough to draw Unicronâs Terror-Predacons away from the Well â and towards the ship. Glitch should have been terrified, but as a power surge pulsed through her circuits, analogous to a humanâs adrenaline rush, all fear was burned away. She didnât even feel the buzz at the back of her head that distinguished reasonable fear from the product of her cross-wired processor. Twisting, turning, diving, soaring, almost dancing between the undead Predacons like a young, less skilled Hera Syndulla or Powerglide, anchored to her console by the safety straps on her legs usually used by human riders, she even found herself struggling not to laugh.
Not everybot was amused, though. âAre you sure you know what youâre doing?â Knock Out asked, clinging for dear spark to an unused console.
âOh, relax. I learned from Omega Supremeâs mentor.â Her Ratchet, to be exact, who was also her mentor. Might that make her Omegaâs sister in some way? Now that would be weird.
âIâd never have guessed. You fly like a Wrecker,â Bulkhead remarked.
âThank you.â Coming from one of the last of the black-ops unit, she knew that was a compliment.
At that moment, the conversation was interrupted by a ship-shaking impact, which must have done some serious damage. âOne engine is down,â Bulkhead reported. âIt can be jump-started, but not without compromising our shields. We donât have any other spare power.â
âI do.â Glitch had prepared for that possibility. She tore a couple of wires from beneath their console, flipped open a panel on her own forearm and crosslinked the two systems before even she could think twice. âGood grief.â
âYou OK?â
âFine. Itâs just â more intense than I expected.â The connection she had forged wasnât a full gestalt powerlink, like a combinerâs, but it still flooded her processor and frame with sensation. With an ordinary ship, sheâd probably have gone into shutdown or meltdown almost immediately. As it was, though, it was a simple matter to direct power from her own systems into the inactive ones, giving them the spark they needed to start up again.
While she was distracted by that, a reanimated Predacon she and Bulkhead hadnât managed to avoid slammed into a viewport right by Knock Out, who jumped back, yelling, âZombie-âCon! Zombie-âCon!â
Bumblebee and Smokescreen moved in front of him, weapons at the ready, but they neednât have bothered. A burst of yellow flame incinerated the mobile corpse, and a few others.
âPredacon,â Glitch said to herself with more than a little satisfaction.
But even their new allies couldnât be everywhere at once. Despite Glitchâs modifications to their shields, despite her tweaking the engine burn to turn even their drive plume into a weapon, the ship started to take critical damage faster than she could compensate for it. They couldnât stay in the air much longer, but Glitch had one last SD card under her plating. Almost by sheer willpower as much as by using the failing thrusters, she placed the ship directly above a flock of fliers. âBrace for impact!â
The warship dropped like the proverbial stone, its fall cushioned by several squashed Terror-âCons, skidded on their spilled fuel, and finally came to rest bare mechanometres from the Well of All Sparks. âEverybot all right?â
âNothing a little carnauba wax wonât fix up.â Really? That was Knock Outâs priority?
Glitch bit back the sassy remark she wanted to make, focusing on the bigger picture. âI wish I could say the same for the Justice. Itâs going to take weeks to get him back in the air.â
âYou renamed the Nemesis?â
âOf course. The old name was too negative. Revenge is never good, but justice can be â especially if itâs restorative, not retributive.â
Mercifully, Knock Out chose not to get into that argument, though he did his best to start another one. âI say we leave it here to rust, if we even survive whatâs coming.â
âOver my cold, offline shell! This is a Cybertronian weâre talking about here!â Knock Out looked surprised and confused. âYou didnât know?â
âKnow what?â Bulkhead asked, still recovering from the crash.
âThis isnât just a ship. Heâs a Metrotitan. Trypticon, to be exact. Stasis-locked, but alive. I recognised the general layout and file architecture from my Omega Supreme,â all the Omega Sentinels, really; they had been her sparklinghood obsession, âand did some digging.â That was how she had coped with the powerlink. Even in deep stasis, Trypticonâs mind had shielded hers. She vowed to repay him by bringing him back online.
If she lived, that was. The fight wasnât anywhere near over, and the greatest danger was yet to come. She disconnected herself from Trypticon, then had to brace herself against her console as her systems registered that she was running on fumes. Sheâd prepared for that, too, and withdrew a canister of green liquid from a hidden drawer below the controls, consuming the contents in one go and making a face. It tasted worse than boot-camp rations.
âIs that Synth-En?â Knock Out was right to be wary. Heâd once been soundly beaten by Ratchet under the influence of an early version of synthetic Energon.
âThe stable one, yes. Shockwave didnât have time to destroy his manufacturing facility, though he locked the controls up tight. I had to ask very nicely just for one dose. But if this doesnât counter the effects of Dark Energon exposure, nothing will.â
Luckily for her, it did. Even outside the protection of the Justice, with a trail of Dark Energon staining the ground, she was still ready for battle as the Autobots (including one recent defector) lined up in front of the Well, the Predacons â Predaking, another dragon and an ursagryph, easily mistaken for a griffin; Smokescreen had been nearly right â landing behind them, all braced for the fight of their lives.
âStick close to me,â she said to Knock Out, indicating her shield with one magnet. âFinish protector.â
âIâm never going to live that down, am I?â Knock Out seemed resigned to the fact. âSpeaking of finishes, yours could do with quite a bit of work.â
True, but⊠âDonât have time. And Iâm still surprised you do.â
âWhere thereâs a will, thereâs a way. And if we both get out of this alive, at least let me do something about your hands. Theyâre painful to look at.â
Glitch spared a brief glance for the offending components. Yes, they were scuffed, but she liked them that way. They showed that she worked for a living; that she wasnât some spoiled upper-class sparkling or privileged academic. If fixing them up would make Knock Out happy, though⊠âAll right. When we survive this.â
Her optimism wasnât universal; after all, as Bumblebee pointed out, they were the last line of defence for the Well and the planet. Not the safest role in the universe.
âI would recommend leaving that,â Predaking âsuggestedâ, âto those more suited for the task. Skylynx! Darksteel! Allow nothing to enter the Well!â
Without another word from anybot, the three living Predacons transformed back into their alt-modes, leaped over the Autobotsâ heads and charged their undead ancestors. Their flames held back the horde of Terror-âCons for a little while, but there were just too many of them; Predaking and his new subjects were swept into the Well, still fighting denta and claw to slow the advance of Unicronâs army.
âReally? This is how it ends?â Bulkhead asked in disbelief.
âWeâre not losing our planet,â Bumblebee declared. âNot without taking Unicron with it.â One recently reawakened deity sharing a body with a very angry and independent ex-gladiator against seven extremely determined warriors, six of them fighting for a home they had only just regained, the seventh fighting for her friends. One almost had to feel sorry for the Chaos Bringer. Almost.
The power surge that had carried Glitch through the dogfight was fading at last, followed by the Synth-Enâs most obvious effects, allowing fear to take up residence in her processor once more. She ignored it with the ease of long practice. She didnât stop climbing because she was scared of heights, or making friends because she was scared of losing them. And she certainly wouldnât back down from a battle because she was scared of dying and leaving her loved ones. All the same â that would be a really good time for the away team to show up.
As if on cue, Magnusâ ship (borrowed by Wheeljack), the Iron Will, swept overhead. The relief in Bulkheadâs voice was shared by the whole of the party as he said simply, âOptimus.â
âI never thought Iâd be so happy to see that big rig,â Knock Out added.
âExpeditionary fighting vehicle,â Glitch corrected with her volume turned down low. Knock Out clearly didnât know Prime had scanned a new alt. (Two new alts, technically, but his dinoform was supposed to be a secret.)
Prime himself disembarked from the Iron Will in midair, flying straight for Unicron, but the dark god fired on the bigger target first. A spear of purple light hit the retreating spacecraft right next to one of the engines, knocking it out of the sky.
ââJackie!â Before anyone could stop him, Bulkhead transformed and drove off to check on his downed joint-best friend. Arcee tried to follow, but Glitch held her back as she and Knock Out exchanged glances. One medic had to go with Bulkhead and one had to stay behind, but which should be which?
âYou go,â Knock Out said. âWheeljackâs not exactly up to speed with recent developments.â He was right; even injured, the reckless Wrecker would probably attack the ex-âCon on sight.
âCopy that.â Glitch transformed and raced away towards the crash site, sparing as many prayers as she could for all her friends.
By the time she reached the wrecked ship, Bulkhead had already found Wheeljack and was about to try to move him. She hadnât arrived a moment too soon. As she knelt beside her patient, she kept thinking of Ultra Magnus lying dented and leaking on her repair table, and her inability to save him by herself. This isnât like that. Ratchet said you have talent, and Wheeljackâs tough. You can do this.
âYouâre lucky,â she told the white sports car once her preliminary scan had finished. âNot many âbots survive a crash like that with mostly superficial injuries. Thereâs still some internal damage, though, and you seem to have hit your head pretty hard, so stay off your peds for a while.â To Bulkhead, she added, âWeâd better take him and the Allspark outside before this mess gets any worse. But next time, wait for a medic before trying to move a casualty if possible.â
âIâve been worse,â Wheeljack informed them a little vaguely as they âbothandled him out of the ship, the Allspark in its glowing, floating container trailing behind.
âIâd hate to see that,â Glitch shot back before realising that she had â after Wheeljackâs and Magnusâ fight with Predaking that had cost the commander a servo and his signature weapon. Wheeljack hadnât quite had time to repair the Forge of Solus Prime before setting off to retrieve the Allspark. Heâll have time soon.
Especially with Prime back in the game. The Autobot leader chose that moment to arrive, unharmed and not visibly grieving; the others were probably fine, then, and holding Unicronâs attention.
Wheeljack cut straight to the chase, as befitted a sports car. âSo, howâre we gonna get that thing to safety?â He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the Allspark.
âBy the only means available to us,â Prime replied, âunder these most dire of circumstances. The very survival of our species on this or any other world depends upon it.â He outlined his plan; Glitch calculated that it would almost certainly work, and the bait-and-switch element appealed to her, but her spark dimmed to a flicker as she realised what the consequences would probably be, and when he met her optics and gave her a barely perceptible nod, it was practically a single photon.
Nobot else had any better ideas, though, and Primeâs plan didnât need her, so as he and the Allspark flew back to the Well, she concentrated on things she could do. Fixing Wheeljack and returning to the others.
They got there just in time to see Unicron pry the Allsparkâs container from Primeâs servos, having shot him out of the air. âI shall devour your Allspark whole!â
Quite the reverse, as he realised when he opened the container. âWhat? A trick!â They were the last words he spoke in Megatronâs body; the vessel forged for the source of Cybertronian life, emptied of its former contents, pulled his âanti-sparkâ out of his stolen shell and sealed it away, hopefully for good. Nanokliks later, a fusillade of explosions echoed up from deep in the Well, indicating that Unicronâs Terror-âCons couldnât âsurviveâ without him. The planet was safe at last.
Megatronâs frame had crashed to the ground as Unicron left it, but as Prime began to explain what had happened to the other Autobots, and Starscream (must have escaped in our crash) turned up like the proverbial bad shanix, he started to get up again, his optics a familiar red once more (though his biolights remained purple). Starscream heaped praise on his master, sounding rather like his alternateâs sycophantic clone, but Megatronâs reaction was somewhat unexpected. When his SIC referred to ruling Cybertron, Megatron refused. Quite forcefully.
âBecause I now know the true meaning of oppression,â he said when asked why, after exchanging a long glance with his former friend Prime, âand have thus lost my taste for inflicting it.â
Starscream tried to bluster his way back to familiar ground (or air), but Megatron was having none of that. âThe Decepticons are no more, and that â is â final.â
âA sensible Megatron,â Glitch remarked. âWonders really will never cease.â
Megatronâs optics eventually sought her out, standing in the shade of the Wreckers. âAh, the visitor from another universe. Tell me, what became of my counterpart in your reality?â
âLast I heard, he was still in prison, having been defeated and captured â by a maintenance crew.â And a few friends of theirs, but she chose to keep things simple.
âA maintenance-?â Megatron stared at her in disbelief for an uncomfortable moment. Then he threw back his head, and a sound rang out that had not been heard from the warlord in many, many stellar-cycles. Great peals of pure, genuine, joyful, sparkfelt laughter.
***
Once again, the Autobots (including Knock Out) gathered under Cybertronâs sun, this time at the edge of the Well of All Sparks. Once again, Prime was making a speech. And once again, it was a bittersweet occasion, though only two people knew why. Unicron was imprisoned, his army had disintegrated, Megatron, Starscream and the Predacons were literally in the wind and Shockwave wouldnât try anything until the odds were in his favour. Only Prime and Glitch were aware of or suspected the full cost of that victory, though the former was about to change that.
âIn order to both protect the Allspark,â he began, âand secure Unicronâs defeat, it was necessary for me to empty the vesselâs contents.â
âInto where?â Bumblebee asked.
âThe Matrix of Leadership.â The repository of the wisdom of all past Primes, housed in the current Primeâs spark chamber. Not wholly unlike another Matrix in Glitchâs favourite television programme, she thought, trying desperately to distract herself from what she knew was coming. âAs such, my own spark can no longer be separated from the multitude of others within me.â There it was.
âAre you telling us,â Ratchet now also knew what Prime had to do, âthat you are now â one with the Allspark?â
âHeh, thatâs what you say when someone kicks⊠theâŠâ Smokescreenâs voice trailed away as he came to the same conclusion.
âExactly,â Glitch said, her voice already heavy with sorrow.
Smokescreen rounded on her, suddenly furious. âYou knew? And you didnât say anything?â
âItâs not something one drops into casual conversation. And â I hoped, for once, I was wrong. But after what happened to Prowl â Iâm just surprised itâs taken this long.â Her predecessor back in Detroit had donated his own spark to complete a partially reassembled Allspark, which had killed him instantly.
âTo not return the Allspark to the Well,â Prime managed to get them back on track, âwould be to prevent future generations of new life from existing on Cybertron.â Which, after everything theyâd gone through, was unthinkable. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. âMy quest must be completed.â
âOptimus,â Ratchet objected, âI didnât return to Cybertron to save a life only to lose the one I care most about.â Glitch hadnât even considered the effect on her colleague of losing his Amica. She resolved to be there for him, as much as he and her processor allowed, for as long as he needed her.
âRatchetâs restored planets!â Bulkhead pointed out. âHeâll find a way to save you!â
âWe can turn to Vector Sigma, just like we did before,â Arcee chimed in.
Prime was immovable. âBecause the Matrix must now be relinquished with the Allspark, it cannot be restored, or passed down to another. But while this may very well mark the end of the Age of Primes, leadership can be earned with or without the Matrix.â Too right. There was no such thing in Glitchâs universe, to her knowledge, but Cybertron still functioned â mostly. Her own Optimus Prime had no ancient relic on which to call, but was growing into a great leader nonetheless. âAnd in my view, you have each acted as a Prime.â Steady on!
As his gaze fell on Knock Out, the medibot managed a self-deprecating, âWell, I never really had the best role models.â
âYou have them now,â Glitch told him, her optics sweeping across the assembly. Three fierce warriors, three loyal and brave Wreckers, one dedicated doctor â and, of course, the leader who had stood by his people through thick and thin, fighting side by side with them, caring for each and every one.
âAs even Megatron has demonstrated on this day,â Prime continued, âevery sentient being possesses the capacity for change.â He turned away, towards the Well, activating the stabilisers on his jetpack â then turned back to say one last thing. âI ask only this of you, fellow Autobots.â Yes, that includes you, a brief glance at Knock Out seemed to say. âKeep fighting the noblest of fights.â
âYou can count on us to keep the peace.â Bumblebee spoke for all of them, as he so often had since regaining his voice.
Reassured, Prime turned away again and flew high into the air, before letting himself fall directly into the Well. Every optic remained fixed on the shortcut to Primus even after he had vanished and every âbot there heard his voice once more â over comms, or in their heads? It was impossible to tell. âAbove all, do not lament my absence, for in my spark I know that this is not the end, but merely a new beginning. Simply put, another transformation.â
Just go forward in all your beliefs, and prove to me that I am not mistaken in mine, Glitch thought as she and her friends watched a multicoloured multitude of sparks rise from the Well. But the words of an even older, even wiser character than the Doctor felt more appropriate. I will not say: do not weep, for not all tears are an evil. She couldnât cry, but at such times she often wished she could.
For the othersâ sake, though, she kept it together until she was in the privacy of her tiny room on the Justice, had put some music on (a human piece, Elgarâs magnificent setting of Newmanâs poem The Dream of Gerontius, describing a soulâs journey to the Christian afterlife) and had fired up her terminal (a faithful-as-possible copy of the ones she had left behind in Nevada and Detroit and on her Cybertron) to pour her feelings out into her own music. Before she could make a start, however, a file caught her optic. It hadnât been there before, and was entitled, âFor Glitch.â
She ran a virus scan (one can never be too careful), then opened it. It was a text file, written in an old Cybertronian dialect, laid out like poetry or song lyrics. From the little she understood, she knew they would fit her nearly-finished âSong for Cybertronâ perfectly. They captured not just the joy of finally seeing the planet restored and Cybertronâs intrinsic beauty, but also the long aeons of conflict and darkness that preceded that restoration, and the countless Cybertronians who would never see it, those whose shells still lay beneath their worldâs new surface and those who had fallen far away. All of them, regardless of faction. Skyquake, Dreadwing and Breakdown would be remembered, just like Tailgate, Cliffjumper and Seaspray. All Cybertronians bled the same â within one universe, at least.
The lyrics were simply signed âOPâ. Optimus Prime or Orion Pax? she wondered. The firebrand archivist or the gentle general? And did it matter? They were aspects of the same person, the same spark under different armour. She had fought alongside Optimus Prime, and talked late into the night with Orion Pax. She knew she would miss all of him, whatever he â or she â might want.
When had he written them? According to the fileâs embedded metadata, it had been created after Bumblebeeâs warrior ceremony, most likely after Prime and Wheeljack left Cybertron, and added to her terminal while she was helping transport Ultra Magnus to the Well. With so much else to worry about, he had taken the time to set words to her music â having first got hold of her draft, somehow. Ratchet had access to all her files, and would do a great deal for his Amica; heâd probably copied it at some point after she casually mentioned that she was writing a song that was crying out for words she couldnât give it. Prime had obliged â as a farewell gift, it had turned out. âStars, OrionâŠâ
As the great baritone Bryn Terfel thundered out, âProficiscere, anima Christianaâ â an ancient prayer over the dying â she finally opened her composition software and began a new piece. One that would tell the story of a young âbot who dared to look beyond the limits set for him, to dream of a better world, and to work with â not merely for â the oppressed in his unjust society, using his higher status to help them where he could. Who humbly accepted rank and responsibility for the sake of his people. Who, when war came despite his best efforts, knew the names and stories of all his Autobots, and regretted every death, even those of enemy soldiers. Who stayed kind and hopeful even in exile, ceaselessly protecting the organics on his new homeworld â and exacting retribution when one of those in his special care was hurt. Who would tear off a Decepticonâs door to save a human he didnât know, and give up most of his memory for a planet not his own. Who had remained an Autobot at spark, even when tricked into believing he was a Decepticon. Who had, at last, sacrificed that spark for his renewed world, and whose legacy lived on in the people whose sparks and hearts he had touched.
Though he had told them not to mourn, her spark didnât even listen to her processor at times, let alone to anyone else. She did grieve for him and the hole heâd left in so many lives, and the piece reflected that. A lament for the last Prime.
#transformers prime#transformers animated#fanfic#tfp optimus prime#autobot oc#tfp wheeljack#tfp arcee#tfp bumblebee#tfp bulkhead#tfp smokescreen#tfp ratchet#tfp knockout#tfp starscream#predaking#tfp unicron#tfp megatron#misplaced medic au
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also 13 14 & 15 :3
13. Who is the closest person to your character?
excluding a dead person? his moirail, aka colorful-glitch. they r very. hm. :]
14. How did they become so close?
childhood friends, before corr became so jaded (haha, get it? jaded).
15. What habits does your character have?
saying "bleh" or "blehg" or any variation of that, also including saying "shrug" out loud while performing the action.
rubs circles into his palms when distressed and digs his nails into his palms as a form of self-control. hands shake when nervous or afraid.
shakes legs when sitting. that or taps fingers against any surface. evaluates his surroundings, always. has a habit of looking around a room before ever entering it.
takes off glasses when tired of shit. no more 1080 hd vision revert back to 360p.
makes zero eye contact ever unless it's for a competition/challenge. eyes dart around a lot.
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tapecorric
tape + corr(upt) + -ic
a gender related to corrupted/glitched vhs tapes
#my flags#my terms#liom#mogai#mogai flag#mogai term#mogai coining#liom community#mogai community#xenogender#aesthetigender#tapecorric#eyestrain#eyestrain warning#eyestrain tw
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Ryan: donde verg** esta la salida de esto?!! >:V *mirando alrededor* ya fui por alla, también por ahi... Acuya tambien... Por aca- *ve a nick* 0-0!!!! Oye tu!!
Nick: :<??? yo? *cargando a un spiny perro*
Ryan: si tu!, haz visto un portal o lo que sea por donde hayas entrado??
Nick: ehhh creo que vi uno lejos de aqui, justo donde hay un arbol con un pañuelo morado amarrado y una enorme piedra
Ryan: un arbol con un pañuelo morado?!! 0-0 (no mam** todavia sigue ahi)
Nick: si creo que si
Ryan: parote que me acabas de hacer carnal, gracias ;u;
Nick: denada ñ.ñ
Spiny: :<??? *olfateando a ryan*
Ryan: si te vuelvo a ver juro que te invito una cerveza.... o tal vez dos ;3
Nick: jeje... Eso espero ',:3 nos vemos lobito
Ryan: lobito?! >:O bueno por esta vez se lo paso -w- *corre* QUE CHINGUE SU MADRE ESTE P**O MUNDO GLITCHEADO!!!!
Nick: whoa, si yo me estoy quejando de que llevamos 15 minutos aqui, no quiero saber cuanto tiempo estaba el aqui ĂłuĂČ""
Spiny: *le hace como zorro* :<
Nick: sera mejor que busquemos tu verdadero hogar antes de que acabemos como el ñ.ñ
Ă·~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ryan: where the hell is the exit of this?!!! >:V *looking around* let's see... I was go over there..... I've already been down this road, I already went there, for this- *see to nick* 0-0!!! Hey you!!!
Nick: ??? Me? *carrying a spiny dog*
Ryan: yes you!, have you see a portal or whatever thing where you can get in here?
Nick: ummm well, i think i saw a portal where you see a tree with a purple scarf and a big rock, overthere...
Ryan: a tree with a purple scarf?!! 0-0 (no f**king way is still there?!!!)
Nick: i-i think so ñ.ñ
Ryan: you save my mind dude, thank you so much buddy ;u;
Nick: hehe no problem pal ñ.ñ
Spiny: :<? *smelling to ryan*
Ryan: if I see you again, I will invite you a beer.... Or maybe two beers :3
Nick: hehe i hope so ',:3 see you later wolfy
Ryan: wolfy?!! >:O oh well anyway *he run to the portal* F**K YOU, YOU F**CKING GLITCHING WORLD!!!!
Nick: oh man, if I'm complaining that we've been here 15 minutes, I don't want to know how long he was here ĂłuĂČ""
Spiny: *fox's sounds* :<
Nick: we better find your true home before we end up like him ñ.ñ
#ryan the wolf#Nick#ryan#nicky roth#hello conde#hello neighbor#Spiny#spiny the bunny fox#Text#Short#Extra
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