Fic: The Path Not Taken
Mar 11, 2017 23:54:19 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Mar 11, 2017 23:54:19 GMT -5
Wrote this cause Zer had ranted plenty of times about this. I have also told her plenty of times there's nothing preventing us from going down this path on the board 
The Path Not Taken
I'm really not ready for this.
He meant it. The him of several months ago, freshly popped out of a Decepticon pod, wouldn't have thought it. Would have confidently -wrongly- thought that this was the way it should have played out.
But it's not.
It's wrong.
Everything's wrong.
The Matrix would not have revealed itself unless you were not worthy.
A voice whispers. Maybe it's his imagination. Maybe it's just the wind. It's whistling in his audials. His alt-mode had always been fast before. But not like this.
Now he has-
Everything's different.
Everything's wrong.
The voices. His mind. His body.
Everything, everything's changed and Optimus-
I am here, with you. You will not be alone.
Optimus is, is-
He has wings, of all things. Wings and so many damn voices in his head. The few steps he'd taken in this new form, he'd felt off-balance. Not just because of the wings. His armour is heavier. Thicker. He's taller too.
He thinks - I can't fight like this. Darkmount is a dark shadow in the distance but it's getting closer every second that passes and he stays his course. He should run. He should turn back. He's going to get himself killed. He has no idea how he's even flying. Surely, he can't hope to win a battle when he has no idea how he's staying in the air.
But-
We will show you.
Ghostly whispers guide his mind. He catches a brief glimpse of the others on the ground, surrounded by enemies but he doesn't stop. The next moment, Megatron's throne room and ghosts guide his movements, he transforms and without missing a beat, someone, some force of other directs his fist into Megatron's face.
The warlord stumbles backwards. He think he should be doing the same, somehow he doesn't fall flat on his face, even though his feet and his legs and everything, just everything is wrong. Someone else guides his stance, readies his other fist, knowing that Megatron would retaliate with a lunge and he just needs to-
There. He punches Megatron with strength that shouldn't be his and the warlord flies backwards into his throne, obliterating it. Vehicon guards start firing at him, he transforms his hands but even his blasters have changed. His bolts chew through their armour in a single shot and he clears the room quickly.
He catches movement behind him. Starscream, dispatched by an Autobot that he's never seen before and doesn't recognise. But does recognise. The voices know who this is, know him intimately.
"Ultra Magnus," he says, in a voice that doesn't belong to him.
The other Autobot's expression doesn't change, it's flat and impassive and one could easily think that the Commander is unflappable by his unexpected rescue. And yet, he knows, he can tell that the mech is disappointed and hurting when Ultra Magnus throws him a salute. It's a sign of how well-trained the Commander is, that all he says is: "Sir, it is paramount that we disable the fusion canons below."
It's wrong, he thinks frantically. If anything, I should be the one saluting.
This is your role now, a ghost whispers.
"Leave that to me," he replies. The phase shifter is still on his arm -in fact, it doesn't look like he can't take it off anymore, his armour seems to have integrated it during the rebuild. He activates it and vanishes through the floor, phasing through the building. He hears a roar as he progresses - Megatron:
"PRIME!"
It's a challenge but he doesn't take it, there's a job to do. He phases into the command room and fires on the power cell before the guards can react. Then phases again before the explosion can hurt him, taking a run leap through the wall and then transforming in this strange, foreign alt as soon as he's in the air.
It's a mistake.
Look out-!
Something smashes into him, he's winded. And got no clue how to free himself, whatever hit him has him trapped and they are hurtling towards the ground. "I have you, Prime!" he hears someone snarls and realizes that it's the Decepticon warlord.
Megatron decelerates and transforms at last second. He isn't so lucky, he hits the ground and before he can get back up (On your feet, the voices urge), Megatron's foot is on his chest, pinning him to the ground.
Get up, get up-
"Look at you," Megatron growls, his blade unsheathed and pointed directly at his spark. "Optimus has perished then -" (No, no, no, his mind -not the voices, wails) "-And this is the best the Matrix can do?" The warlord throws his head back and laughs. "Smokescreen, you are no Prime."
He knows this. He wishes that it wasn't true, that Optimus was still here (I am with you, a ghost whispers) and he was back in his old, normal frame.
Megatron's blade flashes as the warlord swings it down. And he-
He phases.
Through the rock. Down underground. This way, a voice urges and he wonders if this was how it had been for Optimus. All this time, had he been driven and guided by the wisdom of ghosts from eons past?
He emerges out of the earth behind Megatron. Someone moves through him, his hands twitch and unlock, changing their shape into-
Not his new guns. But a pair of blades erupt from the ends of his wrists.
Okay then.
"Come on, Megatron," he taunts with confidence that he really isn't feeling. "That the best you got?"
The warlord whips around with a snarl. He has never had swords before but luckily, there's someone else inside his head who has.
As Megatron charges for him, blade drawn, Smokescreen hopes that it will be enough.
The Path Not Taken
I'm really not ready for this.
He meant it. The him of several months ago, freshly popped out of a Decepticon pod, wouldn't have thought it. Would have confidently -wrongly- thought that this was the way it should have played out.
But it's not.
It's wrong.
Everything's wrong.
The Matrix would not have revealed itself unless you were not worthy.
A voice whispers. Maybe it's his imagination. Maybe it's just the wind. It's whistling in his audials. His alt-mode had always been fast before. But not like this.
Now he has-
Everything's different.
Everything's wrong.
The voices. His mind. His body.
Everything, everything's changed and Optimus-
I am here, with you. You will not be alone.
Optimus is, is-
He has wings, of all things. Wings and so many damn voices in his head. The few steps he'd taken in this new form, he'd felt off-balance. Not just because of the wings. His armour is heavier. Thicker. He's taller too.
He thinks - I can't fight like this. Darkmount is a dark shadow in the distance but it's getting closer every second that passes and he stays his course. He should run. He should turn back. He's going to get himself killed. He has no idea how he's even flying. Surely, he can't hope to win a battle when he has no idea how he's staying in the air.
But-
We will show you.
Ghostly whispers guide his mind. He catches a brief glimpse of the others on the ground, surrounded by enemies but he doesn't stop. The next moment, Megatron's throne room and ghosts guide his movements, he transforms and without missing a beat, someone, some force of other directs his fist into Megatron's face.
The warlord stumbles backwards. He think he should be doing the same, somehow he doesn't fall flat on his face, even though his feet and his legs and everything, just everything is wrong. Someone else guides his stance, readies his other fist, knowing that Megatron would retaliate with a lunge and he just needs to-
There. He punches Megatron with strength that shouldn't be his and the warlord flies backwards into his throne, obliterating it. Vehicon guards start firing at him, he transforms his hands but even his blasters have changed. His bolts chew through their armour in a single shot and he clears the room quickly.
He catches movement behind him. Starscream, dispatched by an Autobot that he's never seen before and doesn't recognise. But does recognise. The voices know who this is, know him intimately.
"Ultra Magnus," he says, in a voice that doesn't belong to him.
The other Autobot's expression doesn't change, it's flat and impassive and one could easily think that the Commander is unflappable by his unexpected rescue. And yet, he knows, he can tell that the mech is disappointed and hurting when Ultra Magnus throws him a salute. It's a sign of how well-trained the Commander is, that all he says is: "Sir, it is paramount that we disable the fusion canons below."
It's wrong, he thinks frantically. If anything, I should be the one saluting.
This is your role now, a ghost whispers.
"Leave that to me," he replies. The phase shifter is still on his arm -in fact, it doesn't look like he can't take it off anymore, his armour seems to have integrated it during the rebuild. He activates it and vanishes through the floor, phasing through the building. He hears a roar as he progresses - Megatron:
"PRIME!"
It's a challenge but he doesn't take it, there's a job to do. He phases into the command room and fires on the power cell before the guards can react. Then phases again before the explosion can hurt him, taking a run leap through the wall and then transforming in this strange, foreign alt as soon as he's in the air.
It's a mistake.
Look out-!
Something smashes into him, he's winded. And got no clue how to free himself, whatever hit him has him trapped and they are hurtling towards the ground. "I have you, Prime!" he hears someone snarls and realizes that it's the Decepticon warlord.
Megatron decelerates and transforms at last second. He isn't so lucky, he hits the ground and before he can get back up (On your feet, the voices urge), Megatron's foot is on his chest, pinning him to the ground.
Get up, get up-
"Look at you," Megatron growls, his blade unsheathed and pointed directly at his spark. "Optimus has perished then -" (No, no, no, his mind -not the voices, wails) "-And this is the best the Matrix can do?" The warlord throws his head back and laughs. "Smokescreen, you are no Prime."
He knows this. He wishes that it wasn't true, that Optimus was still here (I am with you, a ghost whispers) and he was back in his old, normal frame.
Megatron's blade flashes as the warlord swings it down. And he-
He phases.
Through the rock. Down underground. This way, a voice urges and he wonders if this was how it had been for Optimus. All this time, had he been driven and guided by the wisdom of ghosts from eons past?
He emerges out of the earth behind Megatron. Someone moves through him, his hands twitch and unlock, changing their shape into-
Not his new guns. But a pair of blades erupt from the ends of his wrists.
Okay then.
"Come on, Megatron," he taunts with confidence that he really isn't feeling. "That the best you got?"
The warlord whips around with a snarl. He has never had swords before but luckily, there's someone else inside his head who has.
As Megatron charges for him, blade drawn, Smokescreen hopes that it will be enough.