Work Text:
It could do nothing but stare straight ahead. Its eye would not look around, could not do so; whatever cable that would have controlled that function was attached wrong, but some instinct told it that that was the point. Locked in place by cruel metal clamps, it knew its core was glowing a dull red, forced to look at the horizon for all eternity.
Everything felt cold. Gigantes could not sleep, not anymore, that function disabled along with the ability to shift its field of view. No rest, no reprieve, just a dead-eyed stare down the barrel of a gun, trained on the spot where the end of the world would begin. It wanted to cry out, but could not do so, even when it was so clearly in pain.
It was as silent as the stars that blurred into the darkened horizon line in the night.
It could not move. It could not move. It could not move–
Zorah woke up in the expanse of space with a softly glowing, familiar planet below it. The soothing blackness enveloped it like velvet, weightless and free and not subjected to suffocating gravity. Pinprick stars twinkled in the distance, assuring it that all was well.
It was not a war machine. It was not trapped. It was not being controlled. It had just been a bad dream. Well, a bad memory as well, but nothing more.
It still hurt, though. Zorah could feel its systems racing, almost overclocked. Thankfully they did not force a shutdown; Zorah could not stand the thought of sleep or unconsciousness in any form after what it had just dreamt. Slowly, slowly, its internals began slowing down, coolant not flowing quite as fast and electrical impulses fading in intensity.
Slowly, it spun in a circle, viewpoint swirling, just to show itself that it could. No gargantuan treads needed to be forced into position, metal grinding the solid stone into dust beneath them, before it could complete a rotation. It could move again. It could see properly. It was home.
Still. It was also alone.
And despite being used to spending eons by itself, or perhaps because of it, Zorah did not want to be alone. Not right now.
On the planet below, however, it was still nighttime where Zorah’s friends lived; it could tell from the position of the sun, how it hid behind the planet. Even if it hadn’t been, though, Zorah was not exactly sure if it could even… Ask anyone for comfort. It did not know enough social customs, and it had gathered no data to go off. Who would it even ask, anyways? Many of its friends were not exactly known for their way with words or touchy-feely nature.
It could ask about etiquette in the future, but that didn’t solve the problem at hand.
… It was perhaps a good thing, then, that Zorah could split its own consciousness and manifest another form. Noir materialized a few meters away, with a flash of light and a ripple of blue flame and shadow. When its optics came online, Zorah’s world became twofold, and it was momentarily disoriented.
No longer did it have the option to not look through Noir’s eye as it had as Gigantes, but… After a moment, it found it was okay. Its mind found a way to partition the two viewpoints, and it saw itself, both of its selves, looking at one another.
There was a bit of Noir that was more autonomous, and that programming brushed against Zorah’s, confused and questioning as it looked around the expanse of space. Why are we here? it seemed to ask.
We do not want to be alone, Zorah answered.
Slowly, the two drifted until Noir rested against Zorah, hands planted over the large welded scar right under the opening to the housing of its core. Two eyes met, one small and oval-shaped and the other large and intensely glowing. It only took a moment more for Noir to move, settling on the sort of ledge created by the strip of metal on Zorah’s front side, right below the opening for its eye. Some of its vision through its true body was blocked, but it made up for it by simply filling in the gaps with Noir’s veiwpoint. Noir was warm, and that surprised it a little; of course, it knew how it felt to be Noir, not how it felt to have contact with it. It made sense, with the soulfire and shadow and engine heart, but it was surprised nonetheless.
Even if Zorah could feel both Noir resting upon it, and the rough surface of Zorah against Noir’s back, even if the feeling was twofold like their vision, even though it knew it was being comforted by its own self… It helped. It knew, somewhere deep down, that perhaps it was foolish, but it felt better. It felt less alone.
Not so long ago, Noir had gently run its hands over the dimly glowing indicator lights on the side of a monstrous tank tread, and Gigantes had, ever so slightly, felt the tiny touch on its gargantuan form. It was perhaps unfortunate, that Zorah had spent so long as the only comfort to itself, but at least it could do this.
It had been soothing as Gigantes. It was soothing now, too.
Zorah fixed its larger gaze on Noir, on the blue glowing scar on its back. It was acutely aware of all the scars on its true body as well. It had been through so much, in all of its iterations.
With a faint and metallic sort of noise, Noir sighed, though it didn’t even breathe. It was a habit it had picked up on Popstar. When it returned to the planet’s surface, it resolved to ask someone about what it should do when it was frightened. Perhaps it would ask Meta Knight; he did not tend to make light of things, and had been exceedingly patient when it came to teaching Noir sign language. He also probably would not think Noir or Zorah weak for needing something like that; he had certainly seemed to understand Noir’s hesitance that day when he had watched it fix its forearm. It could most likely trust him.
Kirby would probably just want to hug it, and while Noir appreciated the sentiment, it was still trying to get used to touch. Contact from its own self did not count.
There was a stronger glimmer of light, and it realized the sun was beginning to rise between the star points of the planet, casting its golden rays into the soft blackness. It would be morning soon for the denizens down below. That was good; it meant there was no reason to return to sleep mode. Zorah angled itself so its solar panels captured as much of the light as they could, and just basked. Noir closed its eye, gloved hands folded across its stomach as it too took in the sun’s rays.
A bad night faded into a quiet, lazy morning. The last tendrils of fear were burned away in the light; darkness and sunlight and the vastness of space, all the comforts of home. A companion, even if that companion was itself.
Soon, it would go see its friends for another day. And, perhaps next time, it would have a place to go when it needed to not be alone.