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Unicron wasn’t sure what he was expecting of his creations. He watched his eldest, the first thing on the wretched little world that had formed around him that was truly by his hand.
In his current state he knew himself locked in sleep but without a true means of escaping it. Around him he could feels small rips in reality places where his presence weakened the barrier between the world of the living and the world of the dead. At those rips he had power, if only a fraction of his true power.
Many portals opened and closed without much of anything happening at them. But some let things from the world of the living through and some let the dead out. He could watch around him if only on the surface of the planet he knew to have formed around him during his slumber. These portals were not unlike many eyes for him to see his world and the peer into the happenings of the dead as well.
But there was one portal that was unlike the rest, so ridiculously powerful compared to the natural rips. One opened in a lab by humans no less as a human was caught inside a blast from the portal and Unicron for the first time decided to create.
Plasmius, a human not dead but not alive he had seen the opportunity in the portal opening and took it to reforge this pathetic animal into his own warrior not unlike his brother had when creating his Primes. His first creation’s power grew slowly as he mastered each new skill as it was presented and Unicron slowly whispered instructions into his ear but as he watched him, Unicron could not help but see the flaws, how Plasmius never seemed to grow in his desires beyond wealth and an old grudge over some human femme he had wished to mate with. No matter the fire he placed within, the nova core where his soul had been, the fangs he gave him to rip out the throats of his enemies or the killer instinct he had watched hone it was always the same. To watch him stagnate disgusted Unicron. So much so he abandoned his creation to his own devices after a time of watching him become nothing of note in his eyes.
His second creation was younger than the first when Unicron chose him. He had considered what had gone wrong with Plasmius and was intent to learn with his second creation, no longer glowing bright with a fire’s power, nor did he give his second creation a chance to adapt to new abilities. He had been too slow with Plasmius, Unicron had decided and it had led to the stagnation he so loathed to see in something he gave so much fire to. He let the powers come in quickly one after another but did not show him the true vacuum of space, the absolute zero he had locked away in his core, this was something he had to find on his own. And the phantom did not disappoint him in his mastery of his abilities, he fought fiercely and without hesitation for the town he had claimed as his own domain, of this Unicron was very proud. He had heard the whispers of the dead and restless spirits that so often visited his world speaking how his phantom was stronger than even their own king. He was Proud, until he realized that his Phantom had bested the king, and lead an army to siege the castle only to let the power slip through his fingers, that he had no interest in ruling over the dead or living. He only wished to protect, Unicron felt disgusted at the thought. And in that moment suddenly everything about his phantom was a reminder of something thing he hated, someone he hated. Primus .
Everything his youngest did after besting Pariah Dark reminded him of Primus, and how he loathed his brother still.
And to make matters worse Plasmius and Phantom took it upon themselves to be in constant conflict. Where phantom was cold as the vacuum of space, Plasmius burned with the heart of a supernova; where Plasmius was careful and cunning, Phantom was quick and brash; where phantom would do everything he could to protect those around him despite knowing they would not do the same, Plasmius at the very least was enough like him to be able to see the humans around him for what they truly were, tools to achieve his ends. He realized he had not carved away enough of the humanity with Phantom, so intent on making every change happen quickly that had left pieces of the soul behind, something that had ruined his phantom from the very beginning and only now looking at the barest shreds of a souls still left within it was steadfast and steady denough to withstand the coldness of space itself. unfortunate .
In the end his creations both disappointed him as he was forced to watch them battle one another not unlike himself and his brother. Equally and oppositely matched and doomed to go in forever unless something changed. The heat of supernova and empty coldness of space given bodies to battle again and again and again.
He had nothing better to do in his half sleep state as he lay beneath the earth unable to move and needing rifts between the worlds of the living and the dead to harness even a fraction of his power to make his creations. So he watched them. He watched them make every last mistake he and Primus did while they fought one another and he watched them do it so many times. Until the inevitable happened.
Plasmius created a being to help him like a bad parody of Megatronus in Unicron’s eyes, the little femme was the splitting image of Phantom but she was nothing like him. He remembers seeing Megatronus for the first time, the jarring image of himself but with everything against him. He pitied his second son at that moment when he caught her.
She was nothing like space, but she was everything like the sea, this world’s seas. She was cold like the depths at times, lightless and suffocating and crushing with hardly any life along the bottoms of the deepest trenches or she was boiling hot like the volcanic vents, Rock solid like a glacier, but also as free flowing as the current. She could be protective like a cove or suborn as the tides. She was so much.
She was odd compared to everything else on this planet. She did not die and yet she was not alive. She was not of humanity nor of the spirits. A child of no world. He was done watching what had come from his hand, he had seen more than enough but this little creature that was always changing, and who’s power was anyone’s to guess.
He would keep an eye on her.