Optimus and Rhinox stood rooted to the spot, unable to completely process what had just happened. One moment, Rattrap, Cheetor, and Silverbolt had been crouching beside the gate, the next they were simply...gone. The scarlet light of the gate's energy flared once, then dissipated...leaving a new squad of ten alien soldiers in the place where the three Maximals had stood only scant seconds ago. Optimus stiffened as a low chuckle filled the air.
"The fools, the utter fools. You put up a good fight, I will grant you that, but this game has grown tiresome. Destroy them!" The ten new arrivals immediately started forward, murderous intent filling their crimson eyes. The leader grinned maliciously and stepped back to watch his underlings finish off the remaining robots. True, things had not gone exactly according to plan, but their losses were negligible and the end result was most satisfying indeed. He would have preferred to deliver the Seer and the heads of these usurpers to the Overlord in person, but the pleasure of watching these two die would suffice. Suddenly, the large brown robot drew his equally large projectile weapons and pointed them at the advancing soldiers. Surely he jested! He couldn't possibly have any ammunition left.
He did. Quite a lot of it in fact.
The thunder of Rhinox' chain guns rent the air and bullet after bullet struck their targets, mowing the unsuspecting creatures down before they had a chance to react. Rhinox felt only the smallest twinge of regret. It was notoriously difficult to make the Maximal scientist lose his temper, but when he did, the results were truly horrendous. Optimus joined in, and together they managed to clear a path of retreat.
"Come on, we have to get out of here!" From the pained expression on his features, it was easy to see how much those words cost Rhinox. Still, Optimus hesitated.
"We can't just leave them," he protested, throwing an anguished glance back at the gate.
"Optimus, we're outnumbered, outgunned, and outmatched. We won't be able to help them if we're dead!" Optimus knew his old friend was right, knew their was nothing they could do for now. And so the two Maximals did one of the hardest things they had ever had to do.
They ran, leaving their comrades, their friends trapped in whatever place the gate had taken them.
By the time his troops had been able to muster backup, the robotic beings were already far out of weapons range.
Do we follow? The commander snarled at his second-in-command's inquiry.
Negative. They are of no consequence now; we have what we
wanted. The Seer will be delivered to the Overlord, and his two
friends will soon be dead, if they aren't already. If the
remaining creatures oppose us, we will crush them. We
will not be denied a second time.
None of them could, hear, see, or smell a thing. But they could still feel. By Primus, but they could feel. The flaming energy of the gate wrapped around them, squeezing, ripping, clawing; an endless onslaught of pure pain. Waves of agony tore through their tortured frames, bringing by turns the sensations of searing heat and arctic cold. It tossed them about like ships on a stormy sea, at speeds almost too fast to comprehend. If they had been capable of it, they would have thrown up. As it was, they screamed. They screamed and screamed and the sound was carried away, unheard. They tumbled in the merciless grip of the gate; blind, deaf, deprived of all sensory input save the unbearable pain, until at last sweet merciful blackness reached up and swallowed them.
The mournful howling of the wind was the only sound as it danced across the desolate landscape. Enveloped in thick shadows, a lone structure stood, its weathered grey stone making it seem a part of the barren terrain. Two thick slabs of stone supported a third, giving the structure a rough resemblance to a doorway. The arch was devoid of ornamentation, save a single line of flowing script on the topmost stone, an ancient series of characters few could read anymore. All in all, it seemed a rather worthless eye-sore, an old artifact to be looked at, wondered over for a moment, and then forgotten.
A flare of scarlet light in its center with no apparent
source revealed the structure's true purpose, and importance. The
line of characters began to glow as well, standing out in perfect
clarity against the weather beaten stones. Within moments, the glow
filled the "doorway" and three shadowy figures began to grow in the
center, becoming more and more distinct with each passing second. At
last the glow reached its brightest and the three figures burst out
of a haze of red light. They tumbled to the ground and lay where
they landed, unmoving. The light flared brilliantly once again and
then faded away, until the protective cloak of deep shadows had once
again settled around the structure, and the three figures that lay at
its base.
A single figure loped along the rocky ground, barely visible in
the moonless night. The being kept up a grueling pace, entirely
focused on a single task- to return and report to her leader.
Everything was proceeding as the Overlord had planned, he would
surely be pleased. However, far west of her location, the doorway
had come to life and deposited its cargo, and the awareness of a
particular presence slammed into her with staggering force. The
fluid grace of her steps was interrupted and she crashed to her
knees. She turned her head to the west, crimson eyes gleaming softly
in the darkness. So it was true, there had been a Seer on the planet
the Overlord now sought to conquer, and now the Seer had been brought
here. A smile of triumph curved her lips and she resumed her
frenzied pace. The gods had indeed smiled upon them.
Cheetor tumbled head over heels, unable to see or feel anything but endless blackness.
Why do you deny what you are? There, a voice! Warm and gentle, and yet laced with steel.
"Wh-what are you talking about?" Cheetor called, his voice coming out oddly muffled, as though he was talking through water.
Why do you shrink in fear from your gift? Why do you deny your potential? Cheetor turned his head every which way, trying to see where the disembodied voice was coming from. Wherever he looked, though, he was met only by the pressing blackness.
"Oh man, that's it. I've cracked, I'm totally nuts."
There is nothing wrong with you, save the difficulties you create for yourself. You war with your own nature, you struggle against a part of yourself. Such internal strife will tear you apart, young Seer.
"Why does everyone keep calling me that?" Cheetor exploded, tired of the strange riddles that seemed to make up his life now. His tormentor, however, was unperturbed.
It is what you are, the voice said gently, echoing the words the Guardian had used when Cheetor had first encountered It.
"But what does it mean?"
You already know the answer to that, you have only to accept it. Your fear is your greatest enemy, for it leaves you vulnerable to those who would use your gift for their own gain. Embrace what you are- heed your visions before it is too late! As the voice fell silent, the void around Cheetor began to lighten, and he could feel the voice's presence fading away.
"Wait! Who are you?"
You already know the answer to that, as well. With that, the blackness vanished.
"I think he's coming around."
"C'mon Kiddo, rise and shine!" Cheetor moaned softly as his systems came back online, and the faces of Rattrap and Silverbolt wavered into view. He found himself lying on his back on hard packed earth, his teammates leaning over him.
"Oohh, are we alive?" he groaned as he sat up and pressed his pounding head into his hands.
"Well, either that or Primus has a really weird interior decorator," Rattrap said wryly. Cheetor lurched to his feet and let his gaze wander over their surroundings. Rattrap's statement had indeed been accurate- the landscape looked like something out of a nightmare. Thick clouds the color of a severe bruise lay low and heavy over the barren, rocky terrain. A cold wind whipped over the land, throwing small dust devils into their mad dances and far off, a soft echo of thunder sounded.
"Okay, so we're not dead. Ow, I hurt too much to be dead." Silverbolt nodded sympathetically.
"The energy from the gate completely overloaded all of our systems. Rattrap and I awoke only a few cycles ago ourselves."
"So if we're not dead," Cheetor continued, "where are we?"
"Dat's the million-credit question. But if I had ta make a guess, I'd say we're wherever 'dem things've been comin' from." Silverbolt and Cheetor stared at their shorter comrade, unable to find fault with his logic, and yet desperately wanting to.
"So that means..." Silverbolt began, but Rattrap cut him off.
"'Dat means, we are in the mother of all hostile territories, and unless one a you can read the instructions on 'dat thing, we're stuck here." Rattrap jerked his thumb at the stone arch they had apparently been deposited through as he spoke, and Cheetor noticed it for the first time. He assumed the "directions" Rattrap had spoken of were the alien writings that marked the top of it.
"May the will be strong, may the spirit be true, may your heart always lead you home," he read easily, though not loudly enough for his teammates to hear him. The rest of the script was too worn to make out, but he was sure it was some kind of travelers' blessing. It took him a moment to realize what he had just done. He stared in shock at the characters, feeling a slightly hysterical laugh rising in his throat. He couldn't read the script, couldn't point out which characters meant which letters and words, and yet he knew what those same characters meant. He clamped down on the laughter as hard as he could; if he started laughing now, he seriously doubted he would ever be able to stop.
You war with your own nature. Embrace what you are. The words of the bodiless voice he had been conversing with echoed in his mind again. More crazy dreams to add to his growing list! Hooray! .
Keep it together, stay cool. You can figure this out, you can.
The Axalon, riddled with blackened holes. Too late! Smoke still curling idly from the ruined ship, the automated defenses hanging defeated and useless, bits of twisted metal lying everywhere, glittering in the moonlight. Too late, they were too late. Optimus, Rhinox, Dinobot- all dead. No!
Cheetor snapped out of his daze with the cry of denial rising in his throat. He bit the scream back by sheer force of will and leaned against the stone arch, suddenly not quite able to support his own weight without assistance. The Axalon- destroyed, and his team slaughtered. Why, why was this happening to him? Was he losing his mind? Or was it something else....
You already know the answer to that, you have only to accept it. Who had that voice belonged to? The Guardian? But it didn't sound like the Guardian, though he did have the nagging feeling that he had heard that voice before. Besides, the Guardian was still back on the planet, and they...he had no idea where they were. It suddenly stuck him that the gate could have carried them halfway across the Universe and they would have no way of knowing.
"Gigabummer," he muttered, and had to laugh at the woeful inadequacy of the word. "Bummer" didn't even begin to describe their situation.
"You said it Kid," Rattrap answered, though Cheetor had been unaware the smaller Maximal had heard him. Then a low rumbling drew their attention and as one the three Maximals turned and scanned the misty horizon, drawing their weapons and forming tight circle. The source of the noise made itself known a moment later, and Rattrap's finger tightened on the trigger of his gun.
"Oh boy, and it just got a whole lot worse.
Megatron glided over the terrain, Inferno hovering at his side. He would have liked to have brought more backup, but this particular operation would require finesse, not strength. It was a gamble, to be sure, but the odds were in his favor- and after tonight they would be tilted towards him even further.
"My Qu..uh Leader," Inferno hastily amended as Megatron shot him a warning glare. "We will soon reach the target area."
"Hmm, yes. At last I will have my victory over Optimus Primal and his pathetic band."
"Indeed. Assuming these creatures accept your proposal."
"Oh they will accept Inferno, yes. And if they do not..."
Inferno grinned maniacally and raised his flamethrower in the air. "If they oppose the Royalty, they will burn."
"Well...something like that, yes," Megatron sneered. At long last, the cliffsides Blackarachnia and Quickstrike had described came into view, and Megatron swooped low and landed. Even provided with the detailed description of Blackarchnia's report, he was startled by the amount of progress the invaders had made in such a short time. Clearly they weren't planning on returning home anytime soon.
"I wonder."
"What is it Leader?"
"Things are not always as they seem, Inferno, no. Still, I am not
without the proverbial ace up my sleeve. Let us proceed, shall we?"
My liege, two of our enemies' kind approach. So far, they do not appear to be hostile, but there is something...different about these two. Shall we destroy them?
Different, you say? No. Let them pass, this may prove
useful.
The Guardian frantically sought any trace of the Seer's Presence, calling out to Its children to aid It in the search. They quickly confirmed what It already knew: the Seer and his friends were nowhere to be found...at least not on this world.
I cannot lose another, I cannot let it happen again! Cheetor, my friend, what have I gotten you into? What can I do? But the Guardian already knew what had to be done, the question was; did It have the courage? I cannot lose another, I willnot lose another. I began this...I shall end it. Gods above, let this be my penance.
Deep within the caverns that riddled the planet, a brilliant white glow began to pulse, spreading outwards and downwards, into the very heart of the planet. Down to the resting place of something the Guardian had hoped never to see again.
Let this be my penance...
