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Verity was contemplating joining the Lost Light. She was only hitching a ride for convenience's sake, but after a few days on board, she was starting to understand Magnus's sentiment for the ship. As for the most recent antics, there was a prank war ceasefire (agreed upon by Anode and Swerve the bartender, at least until Misfire was released from the brig).
Well, Magnus had less sentiment for the "pranking," but Verity could see it during the less hectic moments. If she were to bring it up, he would stay mostly quiet to instead talk about the troublemakers in need of correction, the areas in need of order, and the systems in need of maintenance—a job he had no plan on abandoning. But, despite how many times he made disapproving faces at Rodimus (the flashy captain, who had given Verity a large golden emblem of his face for being "the first human on board"), there was always a soft sort of look. The same look was given to pretty much the rest of the crew as well. Verity knew it meant that Magnus felt comfortable.
Anyway, she didn't tell anyone about her contemplation about joining the ship. Not yet.
With the prank war on hiatus, Verity found it to be the right time to go to Magnus's room, hoping to casually bring up her recent thoughts on becoming a more permanent asset to the crew. She was useful, after all.
She placed her hands on her hips as she arrived, peering up at the length of the door. It was tall, like Magnus. Technically, she wasn't allowed in his room, since it was without permission. But, when she checked his office, he wasn't there. He wasn't in any of his other common spots either.
And, even if he weren't there, she'd been needing an excuse to snoop around. There were rumors of poetry exchanges with the co-captain that her mind needed peace for.
She put in the ex-enforcer's room code (totally not stolen), then the backup one (also not stolen). It only required a little struggle and the use of her leg armor's magnetization module. When she entered, it took a solid second to understand what the circumstance was.
Her brain dimly processed the bed slab, desk, and furniture, vision narrowing in on the grotesque sight of a decapitated Magnus. Her jaw dropped in an involuntary shock.
His body was slouched against the side wall, with his head on the ground like a murder scene. But, there was no energon. What a cheap prank. Even though she knew it wasn't a corpse, it was a solid look-alike. She knew what real Cybertronian death looked like. She was a Wrecker, regardless of who thought otherwise. The decapitated Magnus logically didn't resemble a true corpse, but the lack of answers and many questions were making her think of things she didn't want to think about.
"Uh, Magnus?"
The human approached the head, her leg armor's wheels whirring as they rolled. This was Magnus, facial details down to a T. She reached a hand up to meet the metal.
It was cold, as if the spark was gone. She took her hand away quickly, a little unnerved. But, the metal had not gone gray like she was used to seeing. It didn't give off that dead metal smell—which was a smell, by the way. Yet, the body was stock still, and lacking life, sort of like how knight armor was displayed in castles. Like it was never meant to be alive in the first place.
Verity laughed nervously.
"Hey, Uncle Magnus?" She poked at the helm, feeling silly for playing along with the prank. "Mags? Maggie? You hate those nicknames."
Silence, and she felt a hot and cold feeling numb her fingertips.
"This is a shitty joke," she said to no one.
Maybe they had lied to her about the prank war being on pause? Or, had she made enemies on the ship already? Maybe she was too soft, being offended that someone wanted her to think Magnus was dead.
But, props to whoever was behind it, because it was sort of working. When she first met Magnus, she didn't think he was capable of dying. But, after assimilating into the Autobots, Verity learned first hand that Cybertronians weren't immortal. Even after that, though, she never really wanted to apply that fact to Magnus. He was huge and powerful, both by Earth and Cybertronian standards. He couldn't just—die.
He obviously wasn't dead, because it wasn't a corpse. But, with the scene in front of her, she was sort of forced to think about it.
"Verity?"
The human swiveled her head around, jaw closing with a snap, and shoulders tensing up as her eyes raked upon an unfamiliar figure. He was small. But, while he wasn't intimidating in height (compared to what she was used to), he seemed serious in countenance. Red optics, then green and white armor. He was holding a tea cup, in it something that likely wasn't tea, but, with the way steam wafted generously from the liquid, it was probably a Cybertronian equivalent. Magnus liked that sort of drink, too.
"Uncle Magnus?"
She felt herself recoil the instant she blurted it out. It wasn't what she meant to say. It almost sounded hopeful, and embarrassment was sure to follow later. The thought of Magnus actually dying must have wired her with endorphins, making her somehow not register he was basically the size of Magnus's forearm. So, as expected, there was a little surprise in the stranger's expression. There was the whirring sound of his optics as they seemed to catalogue her eyes. She quickly wiped at her face to rid of the exposure.
"Yes," he eventually responded in the most obscure way, and Verity felt a surge of anger.
"What?"
She tore her hands away from her face to glare at him. Was this guy mocking her? She had never met him in her life, unless she was forgetting seeing him on the ship. But, looking at him, the figure seemed genuinely guilty, and the heat receded into confusion.
"What does that mean?" She continued to ask accusingly. "Yes, what?"
And, how did he know her name? She tried to push down an old defense in her gut, knowing the ship's crew was safe. It was safe. Magnus was safe and alive and lawyerly as always, as long as she didn't turn back around.
The bot in front of her straightened himself.
"My name is Minimus Ambus, but you know me as Ultra Magnus."
Yeah, and, at that point, she was expecting the bartender or the self-proclaimed adventurer to pop out with cocky grins. But the silence extended, and Verity was still staring at the serious expression.
To that, the so-called Magnus but apparently Minimus crossed his arms, as much as he could with cup still in hand. It looked more like he was hugging himself with one arm. "This is my truer form. I am a loadbearer, which means I am able to wear the Magnus armor. It was bestowed upon me by Chief Justice Tyrest, who was intent on keeping the identity of Magnus immortal. Wearing the armor is a responsibility I… used to have.
"I am still coming to terms with embracing my original form. The members of this ship" —and there it was, that softness, fondness that made its way onto Magnus's expression, on an entirely different face— "have been helping with that endeavor, whether they are aware of it or not."
Verity still wasn't entirely sure what words were coming out of the smaller bot's mouth, but her shoulders lowered, only slightly. He was doing a pretty damn good impersonation if he wasn't Magnus. It was strange, letting her guard down for someone she never met.
"This isn't a prank," she said, to which Minimus sputtered.
"Of course it's not a—a prank."
He said it in that Magnus way, where he sounded almost offended by the word itself. Like a reflex, Verity felt herself scoff with amusement. But, she had nothing to add, still caught in her half-stupor. Minimus didn't address it.
"You may refer to me how you would like. If you still plan to refer to me at all," Minimus said, failing to hide the insecurity in his voice when it lowered. Verity almost wanted to argue, but she let him continue as his original volume returned. "But, I'd like to reassure you that the interactions we have shared were not exaggerated, and that I was there, and not just playing a role out of necessity."
If only he could admit that to the rest of the ship, Verity thought to herself numbly. Maybe he already had, and she just missed it. She swallowed down the sentiment she was being targeted with. Okay, Magnus was actually a small green robot named Minimus that could switch between bodies. Much better to believe that than what her brain had been forced to think before. May as well go with it.
"So you just… slide in the armor?"
Instead of laughing, Minimus went to open up the armor, taking it apart to show the opening where he would fit in. He activated the opening mechanism with a familiarity, which Verity didn't mention. The inner workings of the armor followed the explanation he was giving, eventually leading to a hollow shape that was perfectly fitting to the green bot. He did not enter the armor, seeming to just use the visual as evidence enough.
"I…" Verity trailed off, still not able to find enough words to say. Don't believe you. Was what she should have said, but the red eyes looking down at her were already flickering with remorse, and, as vague as it was, that expression was difficult to fake.
"This was not how I was planning or wanting you to find out. I planned to approach you in my Magnus armor first, but the others seemed insistent that I see you in this form. And, I—well, I eventually exited the armor, then found myself flustered, and fetched some energon to calm my lines. Then, I received an alert from you entering my habsuite. This is all terrible timing, and I apologize."
Minimus's voice was a little lighter, but all of his mannerisms, expressions, and verbal quirks were the same. Again, the green was new, the red optics were new. But, the biggest jump so far was the height. He was so—so small. The top of her own head just barely reached where his torso began, when usually she was only the size of his foot (and, that was with the leg armor). It was uncanny. But, knowing what she knew, it was like her brain saw more similarities than the lack of. Except for the obvious.
"You have a mustache."
She said, effectively ignoring whatever he said before.
"It is my facial insignia," Magnus—Minimus corrected, automatically, which was familiar. Verity didn't take offense, but she could feel the bot tense up with a small rattle in his plating, as if cursing himself internally. The sound was quieter, more compact compared to the large blue metal scraping she was used to hearing. She was still looking at him, and briefly thought of how her neck strained a little less.
"It's a little easier to look up at you, now," Verity said, trying to find a joke, but it came out mostly as a fact.
"Yes," Minimus agreed, leaving it at that.
A little more silence, and she noticed how the steam of the bot's drink had diminished into a single ribbon. Time was longer for Cybertronians, but, by human standards, she must have taken an inappropriate amount of time processing the new bot, who was apparently not new at all, and had always been there.
So, Magnus was an armor. Magnus was also a role. But, it was also a part of him, and not something purely fake. Well, Verity didn't think she could act passionate about sprinkler systems, even if she were paid to, so she could believe that. She sighed.
God, this better not end terribly, she thought, then braced herself as she walked closer to Minimus.
"Tell me you're serious," she demanded with a cross of her arms and broadening of her shoulders.
Minimus bent down into a kneel, allowing her to clearly see his expression. It was firm and earnest.
"The most I've ever been."
Verity took one last moment to look at Minimus, searching for a lie. When a lie didn't surface itself, she took a breath in, and hugged him. Her arms tried to wrap around the base of his torso, and she let her head rest on the metal, feeling it tense beneath her stiffly. He was going to start laughing at any moment, saying that he was set up to do this.
Instead, she felt a hand place itself on her back. The other one was still being occupied with the silly tea cup. It was awkward, and if that wasn't telling enough to it being Magnus, then oh well. Her shoulders finally relaxed. Magnus was here.
Though, there was the sound of Minimus taking in a breath, as if coming to a realization.
"Wait a moment. Did—did you think I was—"
"No. I didn't think you were dead, that's stupid," Verity answered immediately, then tried to reel herself in, muttering: "Sorry. I think the scene just… my brain just started thinking of scenarios on its own."
Minimus Ambus did not respond.
"You're pretty huggable like this," Verity said, changing the subject. "I think that's a pro, compared to hugging your finger."
She didn't look up just yet, but she could hear a small smile in his voice.
"Ah, well. I'm glad you find benefit from this form of mine. I am technically wearing another layer of armor currently, but this is how I typically assume myself on the ship."
"You can get even smaller!?" Verity exclaimed, pulling away from the hug. The solemn air was forced to subside as she jumped on the new topic, pointing at him. "You're like a nesting doll."
Minimus made one of those disgruntled slash confused expressions, and the human was grateful that she could see it much more clearly. It was funnier up close, rather than having to peer up with a squint.
"I… yes. I am willing to show you later, at a more opportune time."
Again, Minimus bore the same expressions Magnus did. It may have been the illusion of the proximity (or maybe the mustache), but he also seemed more expressive in general. He had implied that the smaller form was a more vulnerable version of himself, so she liked to think it was the latter. Verity felt a smile prick at her lips.
"Alright, Uncle Ambus."
His optics softened, as if touched.
"Again, I apologize for upsetting you, Verity."
He placed a hand on her head, patting it. By then, Verity was wondering why she had thought it was a prank at all. If this was who Magnus really was, then he really must have felt comfortable on the ship. Minimus was willing to take layers off, knowing the others wouldn't judge him for being too small. It was a family, like what the Wreckers almost were before it ended. Verity felt herself swallow something sentimental. Her question about staying on the Lost Light was on the tip of her tongue.
"Can I get a piggyback ride as an apology?" She asked instead.
Minimus blinked. Flickered his optics. Whatever the term.
"A what?"
